Lost In Babylon
by Calliope-Soars
Summary: On Temporary Hiatus She's lost, and he's come to save her. SS, Summer's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Once again I have not succeeded in owning anything related to the OC. However disappointing it might be, that does include my lovely Mr. Brody. Drats…foiled again! Nothing is mine, just borrowing.

**Author's Note:** No clue how this got into my head, I blame the giddiness over my new Stereophonics CD. Tell me what you think, if I should continue this or not. Nice reviews make me so very very happy, so please do feel free to leave some behind.

**Lost In Babylon******

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**Ch 1******

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_Wish I could lie in the sun__  
__The same things as anyone_  
_Wish I could lie down there_  
_With my feet, high in the air__  
  
__My skin's crawling up the wall_  
_Into the ocean I'd love to fall_  
_I hear the sounds but they ain't the same_  
_As feeling them with you two feet away_  
  
_Lying In The Sun Stereophonics._____

Staring down at the metal surface, I grin at my reflection, feeling heady by my own overwhelming need to feel that smile…deep down under my skin. I want it to burrow itself within me and stay there until I really feel the need to use it. Maybe then I'll have found a way to feel the emotions that went along with the gesture. Knowledge is power baby, but it takes a little time to accumulate. I grin again, more slowly this time, trying to learn things I know I knew once upon a time. Why does once upon a time always feel so distant, I wish things were near again. Maybe if I could touch it, I'd be able to understand what they mean.  
  


It doesn't work, and I cackle softly, wanting to hear the sounds that have haunted me when my eyes were closed. The mocking sounds that vibrate between my ears, my thoughts rattle through me and I cannot understand nor pinpoint them anymore. They don't make sense, I know this… Rationally I really do, but reality and I are having a huge fight. It doesn't approve of my madness, and I don't care at all. Pressing my lips tightly together, I try to avoid the glares 

demanding silence from me.  
  


Madness comforts me in warm whirlwinds of craziness, and it's never abandoned me, unlike that traitorous normal world. Nothing ever settles in anyway, my brain and heart are waging some sort of war and I am their reluctant prisoner. I don't remember, those moments that made others feel forlorn and look at me with endless pity in their eyes. I couldn't feel the sorrow that I feel I am supposed to, and end up feeling wretched and unnerved because of it.  
  


It was December again, some weird part of my mind told me last night, but I could not understand the importance of that fact. I couldn't understand what that meant, well at least not until I was told what I was supposed to feel. _Take your medication darling_, they'd whisper in slight saccharine tones. And I'd nod like the good little nutter, and they'd smile at me then and I'd feel like a part of the world again. How odd that their smiles could that for me, how their acceptance could make me feel somewhat balanced. Or maybe it was the little white pills that did that for me.  
  


Bodies shuffle in and out the stark white room, and my madness comes calling again. I grin, still feeling detached from the senses of joy that must've accompanied this motion so far away. Waves of familiarity come crashing down upon me when I smell the scent of home on the air. I look up, and my eyes itch as I try to take in his form. Curls bounce boyishly atop his head, and I feel my fingers curl in my lap because of it. How odd, I never wanted to touch anything as badly.  
  


"You've got a visitor, darlin'," the fat lady in the white uniform clucks, and I feel confused as to how I should respond. I try for a reply but can't think straight. Maybe the pills are travelling down my veins and taking me to that pleasant numb place again. How comforting, I sigh to myself before brushing my hair out of my face.  
  


"Hi," he croaks, and I feel a strange triumph at his discomfort, yet I don't understand where the emotion came from. I thought I couldn't feel anymore. It's December, my blurry brain mutters to me once again, but how come I don't understand what that means?  
  


I curl my fingers in reply, and wave kind of awkwardly at the man across from me, letting my gaze run along his face. Things feel nicer in my stomach when he tries to smile back, warmer somehow as he takes me hand in his. His dark intricate eyes mesmerize me, and I wish he wouldn't seem so sad despite not really knowing who this man is. I don't even attempt to withdraw my hand when his thumb starts to run lazy circles along my palm. I'm so terribly afraid these tremors he's shaking me with will fizzle away, I'm almost afraid to look at him again.  
  


_White fuzzy pills are playing tricks on me again_, I amend to myself as I try my hand at smiling again. He looks around for a moment, maybe he doesn't believe this is happening either, and I giddily ponder the reasons for his eyes turning complicated. Was my smile making them do that?  
  
I grin harder, and the swirling in my stomach is fiercer than before.  
  


The fat lady in the uniform comes trotting back again, interrupting our gazing, and the heat of anger rises along my body almost immediately.   
  
"She won't know who you are, Mr. Cohen."  
  


Her sugary words sting me, and delicate parts of me wonder why I'm getting angry about the truth. I don't know this Mr. Cohen, or his tangled eyes. I could care less if I knew him, and pure venom makes me withdraw my hand and cradle it possessively in my lap. I only care for my madness, for my numbing little pills. I don't care about December, or all these people in uniforms who call me darling all the damn time.  
  


"Yes, I uhm.." I look away when his eyes darken again, annoyed by myself and my malfunctioning drugs. "I kind of figured she wouldn't," his laugh sound frail, like it could shatter at any moment, and I hold my breath in fear it does. "It just.." He looks at the uniformed woman hovering over us, I'm certain I loathe her now. "For a moment it seemed like she kind of knew me any way."  
  


She looks at him with pity, and my hands are itching to claw at her face. I try smiling instead, but violence seems more fulfilling. More comforting…God why won't these pills save me from my thoughts? I feel like screaming now, he's getting up. Getting up to leave again.  
  


"Mr. Cohen?" I feel braver than any stark white room, any fat woman with pitying looks. I stand up, wanting to be level enough with him to look into those twisted orbs of inexplicable color. I love the mixture of surprise and elation that's taken over his face. Maybe I should've said his name even sooner. I dig my fingernails into the softness of my palm, not sure why I'm nauseous.  
  


"You're going to come back right?" I swallow hard, ignoring everything around me but his face. And then, he smiles. I can't believe I made him smile. I can't believe I feel alright now, so suddenly, like relief is all there is to everything. The solution to all the bad things I always try to forget.  
  


"Of course!" he nods, beautiful head of curls bobbing along with him, and I grin. I think I might be better at it this time around. Just a little practice, maybe I'll be able to clear my head. He takes my hand again, and I can't get over how tenderly he goes about things as his fingers glide along mine. "See you soon," my strange visitor says very softly, and I nod back at him.  
  


I glower at the uniformed drones, standing in a neat row at the back of the room, waiting greedily to return me to my cage. He looks sad again, so I just reassure him, "I'll remember you next time." He seems happier, or maybe more jittery than he was to begin with. I try not to think anymore as my head throbs ceremoniously, but I'm still proud of my progress when I watch him walk off. Maybe I'll be less attached to my madness next time he comes around.

**Okay, was it horrible, should I just drop this? Or try and make it into a longer fanfiction? Feedback is really appreciated! Thanks for taking the time to read anyway.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I have nothing, Fox is a lucky bastard for owning Seth!

**Author's note:** Don't ask me what I'm thinking, cause I have no idea where this is going. I was just totally in awe of the fabulous reviews I got, despite me confusing everyone and myself somehow. LOL, thanks so much, please review again. Heather, yup Gothika was partly to blame for this weird fanfic. Great movie, everyone go see it!! I really hope I don't disappoint, thanks again all!

**Lost In Babylon**

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**Ch 2**

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_From what I've seen__  
__You're just one more hand me down_  
_Cause no one's tried to give you what you need_  
_So lay all your troubles down_  
_I am with you now…_

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_Hand me down Matchbox twenty_

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Nervous drumming of fingernails on cold metal tables, that's all that was heard as we were shuffled into our rooms again. Doors slid into places, and the loud clink of locks falling down upon us made it all seem that much lonelier. The same old sounds, looping over and over again, until they became as natural as the tapping in my head…the drumming of my fingernails, the deep slow breaths I took whenever the urge to rage tried to seduce me to dig those nails into one of those horrid robots standing guard.

But they had the advantage, their needles and their soothing words. Nothing ever soiled those crisp white uniforms, those untouchables who'd never understand what feeling gutted really felt like. How hollow you were after that lock held you in place once again, closing you out from the world.

_I'm just doing my job darlin'… Be a good girl darlin'… _

___There, there darlin', don't worry he'll come back…_

I want to scream for her to shut up, to stop speaking like I'm not enough for him to return. I want to stop her from mocking this, but my restraints are painful against my wrists. She doesn't care for my pain, she just watches me struggle, smirking softly…thinking I didn't notice. I notice, and hiss some more. A dull throbbing starts up in my legs, and I remember seeing this before, drones holding down my limbs. Cold fluid would trickle into my skin, and through my insides, and I'd suddenly imagine that these cooing words of comfort had some sort of truth in them. And my eyes would become so heavy, become so hard to focus, and I'd give up the fight to make her feel some pain. God, she deserved to feel some pain, like the rest of us feel these damned restraints holding you down. She coos again on cue, brushing my dark hair out of my face, trying to calm me while I only want to rage. My wants don't matter really, I hear a low voice say from somewhere inside my head.  


But what if I forget, what if I don't notice if he did return to me? What if I make him sad because my incompetent mind couldn't hold him in there for just this little while? The sounds of familiarity return, locks jolting into place, drugs racing through my veins. And the lights go out, making me listless as I crawl underneath my cover. Suddenly not so proud, not so certain, I can't remember why I care so much. Things have gotten tangled and tumbled together again, and I know I'm stuck.

* * *

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_She walks around aimlessly, glancing around her. Slowly, watching birds twitter up into the trees beside her, as she takes deep breaths of forest air. Laughter sweeps up with the wind, catching her ear, and her pace quickens to see who's there. _

_  
__"There you are," he laughs, heartily, like he's had a lifetime of laughing with her._

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__The clouds swirl overhead, and without warning snowflakes dwindle down, catching in his head of curls. She reaches over to brush them off…but then he's gone._

_  
__"Sorry darling, winter's come around…" _

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__Heavy voices cackle all around her, leaving the luscious forest barren and cold. Then, suddenly, a beach appears out of nowhere, A soft breeze catching her hair as she inhales the heavy salty air that is coming in from the ocean. _

_  
__There he is again, smiling as usual, waving at her to come closer. To come join him, as he continues strolling further and further along the shoreline. _

_"Wait…" she yells, and tries to follow him…to catch up. Hands collide into hard panes of glass, and suddenly she's behind a window, far from where she needs to be. Her voice falters, her fingertips start to bleed slowly and leave bloodied fingerprints upon the glass. And she watches him move on…she watches him be happy and it hurts so much. She never wanted it to hurt that badly.

* * *

_

I startle out of my hazy disjointed dream world, glancing around my desolate little cage. Greys and metals seem to be all that surround me, and some part of me remembers that my life held so much more color to it than this. I ponder softly if I imagined the scent of salt on the air, the feel of sand underneath my fingernails, but the locks shudder out of their places again and my thoughts scatter because of it.

"Rise and shine darlin'…" She's being too loud as usual, making me want to tell her despite everything else, I'm not deaf. Instead I'm just drawn to a row of crooked teeth flashing before me, intimidating me with a broad smile. I squeak my reply and cower slowly as I follow her to whatever destination I'm being shipped off to again. I find myself longing for the ritual of therapy sessions, just to cut out the monotony of the day. I hate that my head feels so clear, and so depressingly empty all at once.

I keep to myself, always, and no one tries to change that fact. Understandable, my ancient looking doctor would say in that comforting tone of his, and he gladly informed me that I had trust issues. Rooted in my childhood. Funny, I can't seem to remember anything except for these walls, these sounds, and these cooing little creatures dressed in white.

The day passes me in a haze after the desired amount of pills have entered me, I'm grateful for the distance. For the soft padding that they manage to put inside my head somehow, making everything else seem slightly out of tune, or so much softer than before.

"Hello Summer, how are you today?" His brow crinkles, grey bristling hairs tickling his forehead yet making me want to giggle instead. I nod pleasantly, not sure what he expects me to say, I'm in here…I'm always in here. Does that mean I'm fine? Or the opposite?

My finger danced atop his file cabinet, tracing curvy letters into the thick layer of dust that had managed to settle there. Cohen, I doodle in large pretty letters, and I'm so damn proud I remembered. My eyes begin to itch suddenly, and the urge to cry seems overwhelming as Dr. Van Dale fires his questions at me. Swiping my sleeve along the surface, I erase any evidence before he can badger me about it.

He directs me to sit down, and I do, a little less apprehensive than before. I clear my throat softly, "Doctor?" His dusty blue eyes look surprised, I'm usually a mute during these sessions, and his excitement bolsters my courage to speak.

"When do we have visitors again?" My eyes wander to my dirty sleeve, his name clinging to my arm in a heap of dust. It would do for now, I feel dizzy just thinking about this man, my fingers itching to sink into a bed of curls and forget about the emptiness in my head for once. Forget about all these questions everyone wanted me to answer for some reason. Didn't they see I didn't know anything either?

"Oh..." he gives me his old man smile, the one he gives out as a reward for when I dare to speak. I grin back, unable to understand the reason for it.

"Tomorrow actually," Dr Van Dale glances at the file spread out in front of him, his voice pitching in that eager way…that way that always warns me that those endless questions would come again. Confusion holds me tight, my mouth feels so damn dry as I try and cling to happy things.

"Are you waiting for someone special, Summer?" I shrug slightly, feeling uneasy again. **Tomorrow**, a voice in my head tells me in reassurance. I just have to get through this so it would be tomorrow sooner. Then I could just sit there, feel less confused and a little closer to whatever was outside of here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Nope, that isn't Adam Brody tied to my bedpost, just a very good look-alike. Eh okay, so I own nothing, I admit it. Fox is the one with the cast tied to its bed. Kinky!

**Author's note: **Free food, and OC cast members for my fab reviewers. There ya go, don't say I don't appreciate you all. Seriously, you guys blow me away, thank you so much. And thanks to my bodacious betareader, I have managed to have some sort of outline or plot. Save some Ryan for her, she loves to nibble on bad boys. Okay, on with the floorshow. Please review, I've become horribly addicted!

**Lost In Babylon**

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**Ch 3**

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_They painted out up your secrets__  
__With the lies they told to you_  
_And the least they ever gave you_  
_Was the most you ever knew  
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__Your voice is small and fading _  
_And you're hiding here unknown…  
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___Acoustic #3 Goo Goo Dolls_

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"Is he here yet?" My eyes itch ceremoniously as I ask her again, and I feel like throwing up suddenly. I wish she'd hide that smirk at least, can't she see things are hurting for me? Things are hard again, and familiar paranoia resurfaces as I glare in her direction.

I suspect she didn't give me my medication. Yes, that is something she'd be capable of, something she'd relish as she watches us nut jobs from her sterile white room while we roam around in the common room. Just plain little white sugar pills to conceal the torture she loves to put her patients through. Or maybe I'm her only victim…

She shakes her head, flashing teeth I never asked to see in the first place. My rage warms my cheeks, and I wish I didn't have to sit here until the hour is through. I wish I didn't have to hear the snickers of the other loonies, who **do** have their visitors sitting with them. I wish he'd just show up and make me feel dizzy again.

Digging my fingernails into my thigh, I calm down at the sharp pain. I feel like bleeding, but I know that if I tried anything it would be the solitary hole for a week. I don't even want to think of that place, and close my eyes for a moment. Sandy beaches the only image that seems to soothe me for some reason.

Loud steps are heard echoing towards the visitor's hall, doors sliding open, and the loud honk to warn the burly orderlies standing on guard of that fact. I glance around again, swivelling my head so quickly that my hair swipes against my cheek. My stomach does somersaults inside of me, and I'm amazed at my own reaction. I didn't know I had it in me.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he breathes to my assigned nurse, and I can see her flutter her lashes at him. Before I can even feel outraged at that, he turns his head towards me. His face does the most marvelous thing, making me want to purse my lips some more. It glows, very delicately for a man, and I can almost feel the heat coming off of his cheeks. Things stop inside my brain, and I'm short-circuited in the most pleasant way possible. I fold my hands in lap and plant my feet firmer onto the ground, afraid of what he might expect of me.

An embrace? A handshake? I can't even try and think of the effects that would have on me, and I'm scared again. Being passive suits me fine, being mute just as well. Numbness has always seemed like the perfect plan B to me, so I stick with catatonia. And as mutely I warm myself on his glow, things feel so victorious I can hardly contain all the feelings underneath my skin.

"Summer…" My nurse orders, but I don't move. I can hear the hollow term of endearment coming a mile away, and can't imagine why she feels the need to introduce us again. I knew he was coming. I remembered despite my own insanity. I don't need any drone cutting in my only chance for clarity.

I smirk at her, "yes…you can go away now!" Cutting off any further interference from her with the finality in my voice. I feel bold and she glares at my attitude, I know I'll pay for that later.   
Maybe smaller doses of drugs…maybe that's not such a bad thing… I shake my head, too many **maybe's** could clog everything up again.

I watch him give her an apologetic nod, and feel dispirited because of it until I feel his hand on my back. He's leading us back to our table, and I am jolted into a state of hyperawareness. Something I've been without for an eternity of haziness. It makes me feel melancholy and remorseful all at the same time, and as usual I don't know why.

"You look nice," he tries for nonchalance, but the poor man's top lip is twitching in the most adorable way. There it is again, that pride following his nervousness, it makes me feel like someone else…yet it isn't entirely strange either. I brush a few fingers through my hair, proud that it's not matted for once, "I wanted to…" but talking is hard again, so I place one hand near the center of the table, in between us. I smile, half-heartedly, uncertain of how we went about it last time.

Mr. Cohen, I sigh silently to myself, and try hard to make my eyes glow for him when he engulfs my hand with his. "Are you…" he stutters softly, and seems aggravated with himself as he tunnels a hand through his locks. "…--- I mean, are they treating you okay? Are—you okay?"

No one has ever asked me that… **No one.** I want to cry again, no one I can remember at least. I shake my head, and I hate myself a little more with every passing second. He has this look in his eyes, something gutted and tortured dancing about in his gaze. I want to ask him why he looks so torn apart, but I figure I must be the cause for that although I hope I'm wrong as usual.

"Maybe…" I mock myself by letting loose a loud abrasive laugh, and despite my back being turned to the uniforms I can still feel their piercing gaze commanding me to be silent. I comply, because that's what I do. He squeezes his fingers around my palm, coaxing me on by adding a smile as well. "I -- I have heard things…around here. All I know is that no one in this place is okay, Mr. Cohen. Least of all me." He gives me an almost pitying look, the meaning of it escaping me like everything else and things slide out of place inside of me. Horrible things are catching at my happy thoughts again, until they are completely shredded and torn.

"Call me Seth, please." His tone turns the tables, my guilt dominating things again. This time, I'm the one doing the soothing…

"I know I'm supposed to know you. And sometimes, if I really try hard, I can almost feel it…I can almost picture things in my head." I don't want to lie, I can't because of his face…his big busy eyes sucking all the hope out of me. "But really—I don't know anything, and I want to be able to remember…you, Seth!"

His index finger is running a lazy trail up and down the palm of my hand…and suddenly it stops. He stops, I stop… God, everything just stops with the tip of his finger tracing my pain. My secret, the only goddamn thing I **do** remember, erases all the niceness out of this visit. It swiftly ruins everything I had wanted to hope for, jamming up everything inside my mind again.

And we're both just sitting there, staring mutely at the pinkish scar that runs from the base of my palm down to my wrist. I close my eyes for a moment, not wanting to see the expression on his face as I try to soothe myself by breathing steadily.

Steady, yes that's what I must remain always, despite the shakiness I portray from the outside…I'm always steady inside, where it counts. "I'm sorry," I hear him mutter, but his hands don't leave mine and I'm still not sure how that's supposed to make me feel. His fingertip still poised at the edge of where I once cut myself, making it burn all over again. I wondered if I should share that particular piece of information, but when I finally do look at him he looks too confused to understand what I'd mean anyway.

"You have to go now…" I am harsh, urgent, and tug my hand away from him. I cover my scar with my other hand, protecting it from his prying eyes. He looks like he wants to say my name, talk me into something I'm sure I would never agree to anyway. I just shake my head, trembling a little as I cup the source of my pain. My scars are throbbing violently, searing me like the night that they were born. I do not want to remember these dark things, I hear countless voices scream inside my head. Instead I shake my head at him, silently scolding him for waking them up.

"You need to leave, Mr. Cohen!" I repeat, over and over again, puzzling even myself with the urgency I say those words. My nurse comes running over when she sees the frantic scene, and for the first time I can remember I adore her. I want her to end this, to inject me with something and make the flames stop licking at my skin like this. Like a wounded child, I feel the need to show her where it hurts, and hold out my hands to expose my throbbing wrists to her.

"He needs to go," I whisper to her despite seeing the sad look in his eyes. He mouths an apology, but I cannot make myself face him. I feel confused and hurt, and utterly lost as to what to do. With a flick of her head, she lets him know the visiting hour is through. The light catches the syringe and I already feel pleasant even before it's reached my skin.

It works quickly, flushing out the hissing noises inside of me, and I smile up at my nurse. Chocolate brown curls bob aimlessly beside her, and I blink my eyes quickly to see if they'll vanish. I choose to ignore them, and attempt to focus on her curvy spectacles.

"Tell Seth I'll be good next time…" I said in a whispery sob, "I promise I'll be good…tell him! He'll come back if you tell him." I wet my lips, and close my eyes for a moment. Hardly noticing the arms that place me on the gurney. I try to keep my head from swirling. But I just feel so horribly dizzy because those curls keep bobbing up and down before me, even when I close my eyes. Especially when I close my eyes…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I have nothing but my pretty Adam Brody shrine. Scented candles and everything, lol…nah I aint that crazy, Fox is the ruler of the OC.

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, and turned me into this review addict that I am now. I appreciate it. I hope you all like this chapter, I'm trying to get to the plot as quickly as I can without ruining this. Ooh, and to my betareading chicadee, you rock girl! Without you there would be no madness.

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 4**

_Just tell me what to say__  
__I can't find the words to say_  
_Please don't be mad with me_  
_I have no identity_  
_All that I've known is gone_  
_All I was building on_  
_I wanna walk with you_  
_How do I talk to you?_

_  
__Please come free my mind_  
_Please come be my mind_  
_Can you see my mind? _  
_Won't you come free my mind?_

_  
__I gotta find peace of mind Lauryn Hill_

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__"Baby, it's okay…" heavy tumultuous eyes were trying to catch her gaze, and for some reason she couldn't make herself look at him. She couldn't make herself stop cringing at his touch. His touch…she paused, and noticed how familiar he seemed. He seemed solid and kind, with unruly hair to compliment the disorder in his deep dark eyes. She wanted to smile at him so badly, yet her heart shook harder against her ribs when she tried to convince her body of his worthiness of that simple gesture._

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__"Don't cry," he whispered under his breath, and his large hand covered hers. His face was wavering, becoming blurry and then focusing again, it made her feel so dizzy yet she couldn't look away._

_  
  
__"I'm here with you. I'll take care of you." She felt the need to smile at him when he said that, as a feeble reward, almost believing the sincerity in his tone. Yet there it was again, her chest was just too full with concrete emotions, making her sink further into herself._

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__"He'll come back right?" she asked in an almost pleading manner, trying to ignore the scene replaying in her mind. Twisted metals, the cruel fervour of the flames…sometimes it even felt like she could feel the heat coming off of it._

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__The world fell apart, fell down with a crash, and glass shattered everywhere. She looked down at her hands, and the small shards of pain slid down underneath her skin. No matter how frantically she clawed at her wrists…at her palms…they were still there. Gleaming bits of dirt and diamonds were sticking to her with conviction. Twinkling back at her despite the sudden darkness, they lay burrowed deep inside her, making her bleed from the inside out. She really didn't want to be reminded anymore._

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__"No, he's gone…" it echoed around her. No comforting words, no soothing touches…just echoes and echoes of what she didn't want to know. What she didn't want to remember…_

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__A primal wail was heard from somewhere deep down inside her. A cry like nothing he had ever heard. She turned around then, a little startled herself, and knew he had run scared of all the demons he'd seen bleed out of her. He'd figured out her secret, her tortured treasure chest of pain._

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__She knew he wouldn't return. He wouldn't hold her hand any longer. Severed from herself, her wounds were left open and regret was her only friend. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Fox is what I aspire to be, omnipotent owner of everything related to the OC. Alliteration baby…****

**Author's Note: **Dedicated especially to Heather, cause your review made me so happy on the crappiest day of the year for me. Thanks to all my other reviewers for making me smile as well.I promise that the vagueness is not intentional; it's kinda how the writing style to this story goes. But I think this chapter explains a little more. Not sure when the next update will be, I'm planning to go home to Amsterdam soon so bear with me.****

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 5**

_  
__I can't sleep tonight_  
_Everybody saying everything's alright_  
_Still I can't close my eyes_  
_I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights_  
_Sunny days_  
_Where have you gone?_  
_I get the strangest feeling you belong_  
_Why does it always rain on me?_  
  
_Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?_  
_Why does it always rain on me?_  
_Even when the sun is shining_  
_I can't avoid the lightning_  
_Oh where did the blue skies go?_  
_And why is it raining so?_  
  
_Why does it always rain on me? - Travis_

"Tell me about your childhood…" The AC hums prettily after his words have become airborne, and I settle myself further back against my chair. Somehow dark luscious curls are all I can picture right now, and it's so damn hard to concentrate on anything else.As he speaks I realize that I love the rhythm of his voice, his inflection…the way his tongue pushes out certain words and keeps some of them hidden in its fold. It's soothing. It's exactly how a doctor should speak, I declare silently to myself. The old man's wild eyebrows wiggle as if in response, and I try not to distract myself with the amusing moves of his whiskers."Can't remember." I say steadfastly, as always my answer remains the one thing that annoys Dr. Van Dale endlessly. Maybe I should change it up a bit, act as if I might answer differently just so he could taste the thrill of it. I grin to myself, feeling oddly chipper for someone who's just faced a memory head on and still can't figure it out. I wish I could feel the smoothness of the photograph again, it might shake stuff up for once."I saw that you noticed that picture," Dr Van Dale is full of surprises in his old age, he seems triumphant as he bores his dusty blue eyes into me. I nod…_yup, I noticed_, I saw myself standing on a beach I should have probably recognized, beaming smiles while a man is nuzzling my neck. The only thing I **do** recognize, my stomach flips and twists as the thought wriggles its way into my dizzy busy brain… There he was again, _deliciously familiar Mr. Cohen._"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look at it…" I say hastily, not sure if what I had done was really that wrong. I catch his gaze, uncertain of course because that's who I am. Or perhaps that's only who I am now, I remember being sturdier somehow, fiercer within myself.

Thankfully he understands that it's time to change the subject. For now at least. And if I know devious Van Dale even a little bit, he'll most definitely broach the subject again…and again until all I can dream about is that handsome man nuzzling my neck.

"Come on Summer, tell me anything you remember from when you were little. Anything will do, really go on," his tone heightens softly, urging me on in its comforting lull. I wish I could get away from his fake fatherly performance, since it's making me want to crawl out of my own skin."Little girls are made out of sugar and spice," I laugh, not sure why I said that. "But not me!"   
I hear the old man shift in his seat, pen hovering greedily over the blank sheets of paper. Finally, he seems to think, finally he's getting his wrinkled greedy little hands on something worthwhile. His excitement is flagrant in the air, and the hairs on my arms stand on end as we both wait with baited breath for what else might come tumbling out of me. It seems I'm full of surprises today, and all of a sudden I recall a particular bold move, of how I did away with my fuzzy little pills earlier that day."I'm made out of fires and flames." I declare rather pompously, which causes me to blush a little afterward. I don't understand where that came from, but I'm pleased to see the old man scribbling away for dear life for once. I do have some purpose left in me."Who told you that Summer?" Dr. Van Dale voices my thoughts precisely, and yet the answer doesn't pop up to the surface until it's said aloud. "That's a really interesting thing to say." His desperation is noticeable, and I feel a great amount of pity for the man now."My father…" I'm silent in my confusion for a moment. God, I haven't ever thought of him, and yet the moment the words leave my lips I feel so cold. So very lonely all of a sudden. The old man scrambles to his feet for some reason, a worrisome expression taking hold of his wrinkled friendly face. He hands me a handkerchief. "What's wrong?" he whispers tentatively.I brush my hand against my cheek, surprised to find it wet. Why am I crying? Why am I upset? Instead of thinking of answering either question, I merely dry my face with the quaint little piece of cloth he's handed me. I refuse to meet the old man's gaze, turn down the endless questions that must be coursing along his face.Stubborn mule that he is though, he is not to be deterred. "Your father?" He seems to poke me in the back with that faint little tone of his…urging, pushing, tempting me to venture further into dark eerie places I can't even fathom diving into."He said I was brighter than anything he'd ever seen in his life. And I could rage unlike any other person he'd ever known." I'm very quiet all of a sudden, very still. Perhaps that's what it's like when you remember things. Pretty nice things that might make you miss pretty nice people. I decide I don't like the feeling, and I notice my cheeks are wet once more."What else did he say, Summer?"_Urge…Push…Tempt…_I hate him when he does that, when he plays me like the madwoman I forget I am sometimes. Tugging at my strings until I do the dance he wants me to. I dry my face again, but behave like the good little girl they've trained me to be. Respect the white coats, the people with the drugs, the people with the needles and the notepads. They might end things for you, in a very bad way. And despite his friendly Santa smile, the old man still wore whites to work. To me that said enough…"Daddy was afraid I'd burn people, or I'd hurt myself…I'd fizzle out in my own flames," I chortle nervously, and wring my hands around the damp handkerchief, coiling it around my fingers until I can't see the blood in them. "I always told him, I'd never hurt anyone…I'd never intentionally hurt anyone Daddy!""Why was he so afraid you'd hurt someone?" I see the glint in his eyes and I am certain he already knows the answer. He's just doing what doctors do, teaching you about yourself without telling you the answers. I'm the loony lab rat and he's the evil scientist allowing me to chase my own tail."Can I see that picture again?" I am polite in my defiance; I will not amuse him any longer with my inability to understand anything. This is one of those moments I wish my head was cloudy again, that I'd be less aware…more numb so nothing would bother me.   
He nods, much to my relief, and hands me the smooth photo. I reward my fingertips by letting them slide along the surface one more time, before gazing at the little people captured on it."Do you think he'll come back tomorrow?"

   
The old man gives me a pitying look, which just makes me turn back to me and Mr. Cohen looking so damn happy together…so sane._ What does he know anyway?_ I glare at his jolly face, and I can't find myself finding him endearing anymore. He only wants to hear about my childhood. Dissect stuff I could care less about. He doesn't know about this boy with his sad pretty eyes and how he can always make things tumble around inside my stomach.

"He'll come back!" I declare firmly, and dig my fingernails into the softness of my palm. "He said he'd take care of me." This catches Van Dale's attention, although I'm not sure why really.   
"When did he say that, Summer?" I shrug, slowly, unsure as always.I press the picture against my chest, wanting to feel the hum of happiness coursing from it. I can't feel anything. Pursing my lips, I close my eyes for a split second. "After my Daddy left."   
_Don't worry, Seth Cohen always keeps his promises_, voices titter against my skull. How comforting, how warm…I can feel the picture hum now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **It's a new year, new opportunities…I might get to own something worthwhile by the end of this year. Big dreams people, big dreams. In the meantime though, Fox has everything I want…Drats!!

**Author's Note:** I have like the best reviewers on the planet, and y'all get to play with Adam once I get my grubby little hands on him. Watch out Fox. To the people who find this fanfic depressing though, lol… well it's purposely placed in angst/drama, I don't do happy fluff cause I go all cheesy when I attempt it. Please believe me, you wouldn't like that at all. That said, I'll try and keep it more balanced. As balanced as I can for a story about a mad woman. So anyway, as a little reward, here's some S/S goodness. I shall do my best to reveal more in the next chapter, this was just to tied everyone over. Ooh, and going to Amsterdam Jan 5th, but I'll post Ch 7 before I go. Thank you again for all the awesome reviews, Adam will reward you accordingly. -

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 6**

_There's something about the way you move__  
__I see your mouth in slow motion when you sing_  
_More subtle than something someone contrives,_  
_Your movements echo that I've seen the real thing_  
  
_Your biggest fear will be the rescue of you,_  
_It's strange how it turns out that way_  
  
_Could you show me dear? Something I've not seen?_  
_Something infinitely interesting…_  
  
_Echo – Incubus_"Early, early, early…" I chant softly, I can't believe this. I can't understand how joyful and light this makes me feel. "He's early, oh god…" I murmur lowly to myself, watching him slide through security checks, and the mandatory pat down. Simply staring at him as he clips his visitor badge to his shirt. Smoothing it down rather self consciously, I want to tell him how handsome he looks. I want to yell at the top of my lungs. Tell all the dim-witted ghouls lined up along the wall, that he came early for me today. His head tilts up a little, and like some pretty dog his hair flops in front of his eyes, making him swish one firm hand along it so I can see them._Oooh look, they are glowing for me_, I smile broadly. I wish the old man was here so I could smirk evilly, and point at him…at how early he is today. How happy he's making me. How happy he looks himself. Sweet giddy sighs escape me as I get up to my feet. The need to dance, to twirl into his arms, is overwhelming in its silliness. Instead I chew nervously on my bottom lip, apprehension trying desperately to creep its way through my joyful stupor. But then he looks up, carefully, like his gaze is slowly pushing all other obstacles out of the way so it could latch onto me. For once I feel omnipotent and his presence seems to draw me in. Before I know it, we are mere inches apart, and the day has purpose at last."I'm early." He declares sweetly, and I grin. God, I can actually feel it this time. It's sticky and good, and won't leave my face for anything. "Yeah Cohen, I noticed." I sigh oh so softly, noticing how long his lashes are. How he looks so much better in person than in that tiny photo I've been clinging to. He smiles unexpectedly when I say his name, and I remember how much he likes me doing that, from the last time around. I tell myself this time will be different, that he'll leave with that smile on his face, or maybe a brighter one in its place. Or maybe he won't leave at all…Forgetting protocol or nervousness, I stand upon my tippy toes and frame his face with my little hands. Idly tracing the shell of his ear with my fingertips, I watch with amazement as his face takes on this splendid innocence. More than surprise, I see anticipation dancing in his eyes and I can't help but smile for the man. I can't help but forget my stark surroundings and do what I've wanted to ever since he came walking through those doors 15 minutes early.Instinct taking over any good sense I would've had left, it makes me disregard everything and just relish the feel of his shaky breath dancing along my cheek. I want to feel his skin against mine, and the need urges me to press my cheek against his jaw, making me clumsily hug him a little before pulling away again. I want to remember things, heavy things that must have slid right out of me somehow but still lurk around the edges of my brain.Past chapters of the girl who he knew, whom I knew…"Thank you for keeping your promise." I whisper softly in spite of my numbing nerves, I look at him again… A little longer this time, silently offering up my gratitude like some succulent fruit for him to feast on. His uneven smile causes my stomach to swirl beautifully, and I can see from his expression he's experiencing similar tornados inside him as well.The breath backs up in my throat, as I let my eyes take him in, his flustered look making it harder to push the air out again. I close my eyes, hastily licking my lips before pressing them softly against his. His arms fold around my waist, tugging me closer with a need I didn't think he understood. One I hadn't thought I'd recognize. His lips move slowly against mine, tentative yet sensual, and I moan when he kissed the corner of my mouth.I guide my fingers towards the nape of his neck, dipping into a field of curls. And my skin wants to sing from all the sparkling emotions one simple sigh from him brings on. My blood surges, races in tune with some old familiar song only we seem to know. I part my lips, loving the slowness of it all as he cups my cheek softly.Droning harsh steps come closer, and I abruptly break our kiss just at the verge of tasting him further. I'm certain he would have had memories hidden in his tongue, but the glowering gaze of my nurse makes me shake any further thoughts from me."What do you think you are doing here?" Madam gatekeeper inquires testily, while I tried to keep my own temper at bay by watching the hypnotic jiggle of her double chin. She's closing in on him, trying to make him fidgety and uncomfortable, and my fierceness returns. I will not allow her to put her stubby fat fingers in my soup today, this is for me to savor. I ignore her, turn to the man who makes things worthwhile for me these days, and finger a long lock of my hair."You're a good kisser there Cohen," I purse my lips to underline my words, while being inexplicably moved by my own sassiness and ponder the fact of thanking the Doc for switching up my meds today. Seth blushes deeply and it empowers me right on the spot.Turning to the sheepish looking white coat beside us, I smirk benevolently, loving the control I have over myself. It feels like I've snipped away all the strings that held me, and captivity is no longer my master for a few precious minutes."I was just saying hello." That's the end of it, my words announce huskily, and she retreats to her corner while grumbling insults under her breath.Seth gives me this odd look, one I can't decipher and might not want to really from the feel of it. Instead intrepid tendencies, that I frankly didn't know I possessed, insist on me finding out why he's staring at me so. "What's wrong?" I ask timidly.He shakes his head, enticing me with his gorgeous burnt mahogany ringlets. "Nothing really," he pauses, revealing that nothing has a different meaning for him. His big smooth hand slides easily along my cheek, and my stomach flutters its way into my head. "I just recognize something.""Never mind." My curly boy says with a short laugh and a touch of dimple. He's smiling now, maybe he realizes how odd he sounds. Or he's trying to fit in with me, and act a little loonier than usual. _What a nice boy_, I think to myself and all the voices inside my head grow still, silently agreeing with my conclusion… and I just cover his hand with mine."Would you like to go for a walk outside," he seems to catch my fearful expression and quirks his eyebrow a little in offering. "Just until the real visiting hours start. Don't worry, I asked permission, they said it was okay if we kept it to the courtyard."_What a smart boy, what a daring, sweet boy…_ my head is chock full of whispery praises yet I cannot convince myself as easily as before. I incline my head a little, feeling my bravado waning at the edges but never ever letting on. I refuse to break this spell he's weaving, and instead softly ask if it is cold out there. I really do not like the cold at all, yet he seems to know this already. So smart this boy, and I merely take his arm and let him guide me to wherever he wishes.I'm certain he'd keep me warm if things got chilly again, if December and all its nightmares tried to push their way inside my already overcrowded head. He'd save me, this Seth Cohen, to him promises mean the world. His arms wrap around me as we step out into the brightness of the day, I'd forgotten about all that light in a way. Seth steadies me, checking my eyes to see if I'm alright. "This is nice," I say a little shakily, and I watch him nod. "Very nice."****


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Fox has everything worth anything…eh the OC! I own nothing, maybe the freaky bits in this fanfic.

**Author's Note: **Teehee I'm off to go home to Holland, so I'll be MIA for a bit (have to seduce me some pretty Dutch boys) So anyway, here's some new stuff. It's kinda rushed, and weird and eh, I'm not really sure about it. I adore all of you for giving me such sweet reviews on Ch 6, so I really really hope this is alright for y'all. Let me know what you thought. It's a little longer than usual…and uhm hint-age going on. At least I'm hoping it comes off that way. Oh and to Cara, yeah I think that is the first time I had her say his whole name, and remember. So yay you for spotting it, lol! And Alex - he recognized the old bitchiness in her. Now please read…you are all the very very very best, thank you again!! (To my beta-reading angel, you rock the world lady!)

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 7**

_I need you now…__  
__Do you think you can cope?_  
_You figured me out_  
_That I'm lost and I'm hopeless_  
_I'm bleeding and broken_  
_Though I've never spoken_  
_I come undone_  
_In this mad season_  
  
_I feel stupid_  
_But I think I've been catching on_  
_I feel ugly_  
_But I know I still turn you on_  
  
_Mad season – Matchbox twenty_

__

Brisk fresh air seeps through my skin as we stroll in circles around this cement garden. It doesn't matter though, I couldn't care where I was because everything feels heightened anyway. It's like someone has pricked me with a needle and I'm so enthralled by my own blood I'm finding myself wonder where it's coming from. Only, this doesn't hurt at all.

He doesn't really say anything and I can't find the words I'm looking for. My head must be passing its' limit on activity, and that's ok. This is okay, all of it. His fingers brushing against the back of my hand, making me not worry about scars or pain or any of that…they are just my hands now, not anything special or odd…not holding up memories in their palm.

"I'm glad you visit me," I murmur softly, refusing to dwell on the fact of how childlike I sound. He slows his pace, and I can feel my stomach drop when the thought of him not showing up crosses my mind. "I'd miss you too much if I didn't come." And that's that, my busy head shrieks with joy. He smiles a little, his pretty head of hair bobbing a little for me as he trains his eyes very intensely on mine, and I'm reassured just like that. We don't talk after that, I'm too fearful of saying the wrong things, and perhaps he is too in a way. Maybe he knows that I can't handle anymore today.

In perfect silence I notice things, though I might not look the part, there's still some savvy their wretched meds forgot to eradicate. I breathe in, slow and deliberate in my moves since I hate to miss the chain reaction the dealings of my limbs set forth. It's nice to watch life play out when you are so far removed from it all of the time. Despite all the heady things that overwhelm me sometimes, I try my best to pay attention to things that could become important… that could help me understand things in the future, and perhaps make me just that little bit better.

Pushing all my crumbs together, I try and get myself one savory bite out of all of it. Yet here he is, with his grey outline and his mystery, forcing me to share all the little things I've accumulated over the weeks…months, man it's hard to think about how long I've been in here. I'm not too sure about time sometimes. The only thing that sticks to me is the recognition of that chill traveling through the air. The trees dying outside the window I'm trapped behind, hoping that they'd be smart and hide like I have… I always feel like I've seen too many things die already, an odd thought but one that sticks to me even so. And as I feel the pit of my stomach tremble in anguish, I'm sure only bad things can come of such cold.

_It's just December darlin'_, some discarded memory hisses inside my brain from time to time. Ricocheting endlessly against my eardrums until I actually fear the telltale goose bumps and all the strange dreams it brings along with it. _God I wish it would get lost like all the others._

Some people never realize you are sharing something huge with them, something that might be the biggest crumb of all. Seth grabs my hand again, tucking it into the fold of his arm. I look at him for the longest moment, wondering if he sees how big this crumb is. How much this moment could mean to me once those locks shut me in again, once he's left and all the visiting hours have vanished into thin air.

Lax in my move, I press my head against his arm, inhaling the scent of him so it might linger inside my mind for more than this afternoon. I'm certain that he sees it as I do, this sun drenched yet wintry day, full of its contradictions and possibilities. He understands how grand epic seconds are always moving in disguise, never looking the part of what glittering treasure they hold deep inside.

A big sweeping clamor is heard suddenly, startling me from this safe place I'd found myself in. I see the swift moves of white dash across the visiting room, ready to control the mad people as usual. I steal a glance towards Seth, his horrified expression leaving me cold. One of the nurses opens the door and yells for us to come inside, and now I'm really shivering. _Don't forget where you are darlin'_, they would undoubtedly coo once he'd walk out of that door again. And once more I am reminded of my place in this world.

I let my hand slip out of the crook of his arm, not wanting to touch him all of a sudden…maybe I'd taint him and then what good would I have left in my life. Seth seems puzzled by my distance, and I'm too damned confused to explain it to a sane person.

"Hey…" he says in a soft breath, one that is visible in the chilled air around us. "Don't think about that." I watch the remnants of his cloudy words disappear before my eyes, and the screams from inside are slowly getting to me. It's hard to believe them when they vanish like that. Yet Seth is a stubborn man, I'm learning from the determination in his heavy eyes. "All that matters is how we spent the day together. That you weren't thinking of this place at all… please don't start now." I nod, and allow him to take my hand again, leading me into the lair of these beasts again.

I can hardly remember his goodbye because of all the wildness around me. All the madness that I suddenly don't feel as big a part of.

I leave the common room with such a peculiar sensibility I'm almost afraid I might not get to sleep right away as usual. And the thought doesn't shake me as much as it would've before. I'm just not as terrified of being alone with all the ugly noises in this place. Since I have other thoughts to occupy me while they drill their way through my sturdy metal door.

And not the kind of thoughts that speed along like some pesky fruit fly on crack either… These are the kind that flutter and float and soothe and seem endless and beautiful all at once. With the prospect of having some control, I feel my eyes droop and sleep comes so much quicker than I could have hoped.

__

_

* * *

__"You know you should dance more." He gave her a coy smile, one that made his single dimple flash endearingly and almost made her not notice his hand gliding down her back. It nearly made her press herself closer to him and slide more seductively against the sumptuous beats throbbing against her frame. _

_  
__"You know you should talk less," she grinned again, snootily tilting one brow as she dug herself further into his embrace. There it was, familiar and warm, that pride over the way she could always keep him guessing. Send mixed signals to always keep him on his toes. It was their game, their best dance of all._  
  
_  
__He bent his head then, inclining it down just enough so he could meet her fiery gaze levelly. Dark eyes flashed simultaneously, and the air was charged at once. His chocolate curls gracefully tumbled down a little, yet his eyes held something distinctly masterful when he had clearly heard her breath hitch at his closeness. _

_  
__He knew he had a hold on her, one she was allowing herself to succumb to. Yet just several crystal moments before he could smoothly slant his mouth over hers, the air shivered like it was on fire. Their melodic surroundings wavered in a horrifying moment…the floor turned to liquid and the night sank away in it. No more prospect of sweetness…No more music or dancing…Nothing but a deep echoing dark. _

_  
__"You know better than that pumpkin!"_

_  
__Shaking her head sadly, she prayed for the voice to be silent, for things to return, as they had been mere seconds before all this. Simplicity was beyond her grasp, it whispered softly to her and she wept a little. Her tiny frame shivered against the nothingness surrounding her, forgiving herself for what she was about to do. In bitter obedience, she held out her hand anyway, listlessly watching as the pills poured endlessly into her petit palm. _

_  
__"You can't see him unless you follow the rules." It bellowed once again, a twinge of caring hidden somewhere at its edges. "The rules are there to protect you." _

_  
__A pang of guilt pressed against her throat, muting her as it sent throbs of fear up and down her body. She couldn't speak, and somehow that didn't matter since she could not fight with reason. She could not rival so much concern, since in some ways she understood. _

_  
__Suddenly she found herself back in her pink room again, and fatigue was all that raced through her mind. _

_  
__A dark figure lay in her bed, the silvery moonlight trickling along his handsome features as she remembered him once more. She wanted to reach out. To touch him... Wake him… Tell him everything. About the pills and voices and how she had loved to dance with him._

_  
__"Daddy," she whispered softly, "I promise I'll be good." Fixing her eyes onto her full hand, she watched the dots of medicine lay there mutely, foreboding in their silence. "I'll do anything," her voice became more hollow now, as she tried to reach his sleeping form upon her bed. The white pills sank into her skin, slowly, vanishing so she could finally touch him now. _

_  
__"I'll be so good he'll never ever notice."___


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Fox still has everything related to the O.C. and I still don't own anything. Sucks huh?!

**Author's note: **I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I think I have a good excuse. When I went on vacation to Holland, I decided to stay. So I'm thinking emigration is enough for you guys to forget how long I kept you waiting. Sorry though, here's Ch 8, I hope you like it. Thanks again to my wonderful beta-reader angel, if she wasn't constantly pestering me I probably would've taken longer. You guys have been great for sticking by the story (if there's still anyone out there remotely interested that is lol), please review again, it really makes my day. Read on please…

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 8**

_You'll never see the courage I know   
Its colors' richness won't appear within your view   
I'll never glow -- the way that you glow   
Your presence dominates the judgments made on you   
  
But as the scenery grows, I see in different lights   
The shades and shadows undulate in my perception   
My feelings swell and stretch; I see from greater heights   
I understand what I am still too proud to mention – to you   
  
You'll say you understand, you'll never understand   
I'll say I'll never wake up knowing how or why   
I don't know what to believe in, you don't know who I am   
You'll say I need appeasing when I start to cry   
But never is a promise and I'll never need a lie_

_Never Is A Promise – Fiona Apple_

I never speak to the other patients, wanting to distinguish myself from all the crazies roaming the place beside me. Call it arrogance or foolishness even, but I feel that I still hold a modicum of sanity in my grasp…and I sure as hell am not going to allow the lot of them to take those cunning slivers away from me. Best to stay delusional, best to stay standing on your toes and see how long you can hold out for. I might surprise everyone. Hell, I might surprise myself, and ever since I've been trapped between these sickly green walls, I've decided I enjoy surprises more than anything.

I learn from extremes, from watching how the sane people live…how they move about and act. The ones with the freedom to walk away from these sickening smells at the end of the day, they are the ones who hold my future in their eyes. I sit quietly, studying the guards and nurses. Trying to remember gestures and expressions…but then I sense that I was higher up the chain. Perhaps more privileged in my ways.

I slide off to the bathroom, eyed closely by fat Bertha (or whatever this one's name might be) as she fingers her gleaming mocking badge. My fingers skim the mirror's surface, and I simply close my eyes. The cold sterile light shines harshly through my closed eyelids, but I feel more mellow somehow. Like everything is still one shade softer than it had been before. Like I'm outside in the cement garden again with Seth, only there's no interruption. No harsh hurtful noises to cut into my dream. Better yet, no reality to go back to…to drown into. Nothing but the cool brisk air around us and those few persistent daffodils that dared to brave this cold new world.

_"You're gorgeous."_

I hear odd echoes of far away voices tell me this repeatedly. With not much meaning but conviction nonetheless. I smile a little to myself, attempting to go off into some sort of soul-searching séance right here in the ladies room.

_"I'm lucky, you know."_

I remember someone familiar saying that, more feeling this time around, and I squint my eyes to glance at my face again. To glimpse at all the feelings showing through my skin. I wish I could tell the difference between joy and ignorance, but my mind is disappointing me again.

_"They don't get to see how gorgeous you are when no one's looking anymore.."_

_Cohen…_ I think suddenly, and stuff comes unstuck for some reason. I smile coyly, like he's standing in front of me, smiling back…waiting to be kissed. I've almost forgotten his taste and my stomach churns with fright, I wish he'd come and kiss me dizzy so I'd memorize it all again. I'm so much better at remembering this time around, I'd prove myself, my gorgeous secret worth.

Fat Bertha coughs loudly, and yet I can't for the life of me muster up any annoyance towards her. I'm too giddy, too overwhelmed by my own séance-holding powers. I snicker softly, he's going to come and brighten up this shit hole. Maybe I'll be bold today and try and kiss him again. I don't even mind when Bertha drags me out of the ladies room, irritated mumblings slipping out of her deformed wide face. I peek at her for a moment, ignoring the painful hold she has on my arm. Ignoring what any other respectable nutjob would be feeling, as I give her a snide smile. I tilt my head a little, scrutinizing her until her white uniform seems to dissolve and she's nothing but an ugly woman in a pissy mood.

_I'm gorgeous, and man does it suck to be you… _

I gasp softly, _oh my god…_ she might've heard me. And I frantically start to doubt if I spoke out loud or not, when I see her smile back at me with barely hidden malice. I'm dragged to her nurses' cart, and she holds up a cup for me to take. I cringe instantly, not now I beg mutely…_not now…not when he's coming in less than an hour. Not when things were going good for me._

No bravery left in me to rebel, I drop the pills into my mouth and wash them down with water. Fat Bertha being the evil wench she is, checks to see if I have really swallowed them, and then proceeds to grunt triumphantly. Maybe she felt the reach of my victory, and wanted it for herself, sparkly shreds of someone I might've liked being once upon a time. With my superior air fizzing out around me, abandoning me like it always has, I shakily roam my way around the common room. Despite my usual resentment, my pain feels duller now – less droning, less sharp -- and perhaps I should be grateful in a way.

Silently I take in the pitiable images surrounding me. A petite young girl bumps into another patient, and screams burst out of her as she start clawing at her own arms. Sad tuffs of dirty yellowish hair shield her deathly pale face, incoherent murmuring and shrieks seem to be only sign of life as she acts like the momentary touch burned her skin. Idly, I wonder what happened to her, but a cold fear slithers along my spine. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe she can't remember either. _Maybe_…

I hush my fearful thoughts, petrified by what the answers could be. My head desperately buzzes all unwanted probabilities out of the way, while I return to the art of avoiding any and all human contact in some sort of dazed reflex. I'll ask the Doctor when I see him later, but my stomach twists when I realize the fuzzy pills will probably erase all of these wishful thoughts from my head once I can see him.

A grim smile flashes in my direction, and a pair of burly hands grab hold of me. I instinctively shrink away at the sign of all this white, but can't find a way to escape the large mass of muscle cornering me. The orderly pushes me along narrow green hallways, and my head is bubbling over with questions. The pills must have settled in my brain, since I can hardly find a reason for my kidnapping. The white coat barks some inexplicable instructions at me, to which I only blink as he dashes out of the hallway again and leaves me behind. I finger the peeling paint beside me, and lean myself further against the wall, unsure of what I am supposed to be doing here. Voices ooze out into the hallway, and I can almost feel my eyes lighting up in recognition. I press myself closer to the wall, unsure of where its coming from, but certain of how calm I feel because of its tone.

"I've told you what my decision is, she would want this. The girl I knew," he stammers gently, and swiftly amends himself, "know…" his tone is soft again, and I glance around in haste while trying to find his face, but all I'm met with are green walls. For once I feel some remorse at the lack of white in these halls. "I just want your honest professional advice, but don't expect to change my mind." He sounds so stern, damn…I wish I could see his face, I bet it would be handsomely flustered. I smile to myself and try to not think about how it felt kissing him.

"Look I really can't think of another way of explaining this to you. She doesn't realize how profound her past has been, how important it is. And perhaps that's why she isn't making any constructive efforts to get it back. The past including you and all the other things she might have experience once her disease started to take over."

I push myself off into a hazy stumble in search of some sort of room where they must be hiding, and idly think I shouldn't have had my meds with so little food in my system. I grin at my own apt observation, and luckily a soft light catches me at the end of the hallway. The voices are louder now, and my excitement grows as I sneak up on them.

I have never seen the old man looking so frustrated, maybe this was the first time he was encountering confusion he couldn't help fix. He seems more fragile somehow, like he'd lost that heady glow he had always possessed. The words rush past me in a jumble, and I try not to get distracted but my madness never listens to me. A part of me feels guilty for adding another wrinkle line to my Doc's kind face, making me wish he wouldn't worry about me. I'm used to being this way.

"It's not something she has a grasp on like healthy people have, she can't just think back to fond memories. Not after the extent of the trauma she's experienced. You might not have realized, but she's always been ill, Mr. Cohen. And the loss of her father was the last drop."

"I know, I realize she's not well. But you of all people have to admit that my visits have been helping. She wasn't like this…" Seth pauses a moment, looking so tormented as if he is trying his damnedest not to go back to whatever dark place his mind took him. I feel wretched once more. A little part of me wanting to leave, while the rest of me wants to know what they mean.

"Yes, your visits help, but what you are suggesting to do can do more harm than good. It's too drastic and too soon, Mr. Cohen. And as a professional, and Summer's doctor, I'd have to honestly discourage it."

Seth wasn't to be deterred though, and he shakes his head with passionate vigour that makes my stomach do somersaults along with my head. "You don't understand," and I feel breathless by his confusion, as if he were a kindred spirit all along. "In the beginning, she wasn't like this, she was barely in there. But now, Dr. Van Dale, I can almost see **Summer** behind her eyes."

His hand comes up to delve into his complicated curls, and I bite my lips, not wanting to miss a beat. "If my visits did **that**, then why stop there…why can't…"

"Summer!" Doctor Van Dale bellows all of a sudden, and I almost lose my footing in the utter shock of it all. I try to grin, but the mortified expression plastered on both men's face scares the smile right out of me. "Hi," I murmur, and attempt a wave, but only stumble some more. _First my mind, then my poise_…I think bitterly, and tentatively move further into the Doc's office while avoiding everyone's gaze like a pro. "Was just a bit earlier today," but I quickly swallow whatever weird choked laugh wanted to come out of me when I catch the crushed expression on Seth's face.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The O.C. belongs to Fox, I'm just using the characters for my amusement. 

Author's Note: I realize I suck majorly for leaving you all hanging, especially after I got so many awesome reviews out of the last episode. Thank you so much for that, I had no idea anyone was even waiting for a new chapter. Real life has been great so angst is a little harder to come by these days, and well we all know how great the show has been to all us S/S fans. Although I did loved every moment of the cute S/S stuff, the thing that stick with me is the little peek we got into Summer's psyche when she whispered, "I just don't know why he likes me." More angst for Rachel, cause I'm sure she'd do a breathtaking job. Anyway, read on, I will try and get Ch 10 to you asap if the real world doesn't take me hostage. Oh and if this sucks, I'm honestly clueless about it since I can't function without a beta, and mine is trapped under a pile of schoolbooks somewhere. ^-^

Lost In Babylon 

**Ch 9**  
  
_ And I'm feelin' the same way all over again  
Feelin' the same way all over again  
Singin' the same lines all over again  
No matter how much I pretend  
  
So many times I wondered where I've gone  
And how I found my way back in  
I look around a while for something lost  
Maybe I'll find it in the end…  
  
Feelin' the same way – Norah Jones_

The minutes moved away from me like they were made out of lightning, and I hadn't found a chance to ask them anything as they huddled together and discussed some sort of game plan. I'm unnerved by what's just played out in front of me and can't seem to steady myself. My breathing sounds unnatural, too loud, too unsatisfying in my gasping. I feel like crying, yet simply continue sliding back and forth on my rickety chair while Dr. Van Dale expects me to divulge some hidden depth of my unavailing mind. 

Uselessness creeps over my skin and settles deep inside of me, until I also feel that same blind rage towards myself. For not fighting against the confusion they were weaving around me, I wish I wouldn't let moments pass me by so easily. Like I wasn't even there…like I didn't take up any space in that room along with them… 

I watch Van Dale look at me with so much worry in his eyes, yet I can't muster up any sympathy for him. I glance at my hands… but then again, a stubborn thought strikes me… _Didn't I turn myself invisible for a reason? Didn't I want to hide in the first place?  _

The old man mutters something inaudible to himself, and some part of me starts to doubt my presence there as well. I want to growl at him, or cry, or at least cause someone to bleed or something. Make my existence known, mark this place with something completely mine. Act like some insane person, since that's all I am anyway. Either way I feel like utter crap. For the first time since I can remember Seth disappointed me. Barely looking at me as he rushed off in a flurry, my stomach turns at the image I manage to resurrect. 

He brushed me off on the old man, treating me like all the other invisible loonies in this place. Something you pretend you don't see, in hopes it will get the picture and leave anyway. My heart shakes with anger and I can't think of a way to push this away from me. It's clinging to my skin, and I remember that his eyes looked hollow this time, flickers of guilt dancing around his face as he tried to avoid my eyes. The heat I feel seems to be searing its way through my veins and I wish I could return to the joyful feelings I got from him. _Screw him_, the voices howl at me, and I nod my head vigorously while returning to my soothing stare-down with the Doc. 

I can still feel the hum of my meds but I refuse to submit to it. Rebellion takes a hold of me, and I glare at the old man and his odd frizzy eyebrows. A flicker of recognition races through me but I don't have time to remember right now, I'm too pissed off. Dr. Van Dale isn't too bothered by my revolution, and continues to peer at his notes. He clears his throat suddenly, and his dusty blues zero in on me like heat-seeking missiles. It's unnerving, yet nothing seems to frighten me at the same time, it merely throws me off balance. 

My inexplicable confidence returns though, making I feel more secure somehow, like anger is the only thing I can control… and it feels damn good. It's so rare, I'll take anything, for whatever reason. I feel like lashing out, no thought of solitary holes, no respect for the white-coats this time. They ruined my curly boy, they made him believe their lies. And it hurts to think that my reasons for smiling seem to dissolve so swiftly without him on my side. 

"I'd like to continue with the subject we left off at last time." I smirk grimly, daring him to ask anything else. Especially now that I've just caught him poisoning Seth against me, and I feel ill at how easily deceived I was by his kindly Santa looks. I shrug at him, _playing the village idiot as usual_, and the thought stings me more than I had expected. Van Dale doesn't seem to care though, and merely continues his prodding.   
  


"About your father..." He offers me in a slow kind tone, and doesn't seem to care if I'd rather politely decline to play along. This is our game, back and forth like this. He pokes me with a needle, and then it's my turn to bleed. Show him what I'm made of. It's painless for him so we repeat it so often that sometimes I ache inside my head. His bushy eyebrows wiggle, pushing me off the cliff he's put me on and I really loath the old man for it. I'm no longer docile, while rabid daring thoughts press demandingly against my lips to escape from me.

"What did you say to him?" I demand in utter fervour. 

The old man looks at me like I've just said something horribly obscene, and I almost gasp because of the look on his face. _How dare I mingle in the affairs of the sane_, his eyes seem to scream at me, and I'm taken aback as well. I'm not one to cause trouble, at least not normally. I'm the one that stays around the edges, looking for a way out, something they might've all overlooked…a crack in the wall. And for the first time since being here, I think I might've just picked up a sledgehammer. 

Dr. Van Dale shakes his head with ardour, "That doesn't concern you, darlin'."

I can almost feel the steam escaping from my ears when I hear him use that hollow term of endearment. I know what it holds inside of itself, in between the sweet meaning of the word lurk condescending demons that push you further and further away from the real issues. Further away from that sledgehammer when I've only just gotten my fingers curled around the handle. My head feels clearer with the rush of blood to my cheeks. 

"It does concern me," I say a little too loudly, trying in vain to convince him I am certain of something for once. He doesn't seem to care much, since he starts scribbling away. Something tells me he's prescribing me more pills, more junk to fill up my head, when I'm already out of room. Can't they ever tell what's right in front of their faces, and they're supposed to be the sane ones. I scoff softly and cross my arms in front of my chest. 

"Well my father doesn't concern you either." It doesn't come out as strong as I would've hoped but I know that after this there will come a time when I'll blossom into something this place can't handle. And I'll run away from it all. Somehow, the picture I found last time comes to mind, _sea and sand and Seth…_ and it feels like salvation. 

"When is the last time you saw your father Summer?" Maybe it's the way he says my name, inflection and all, but it makes the question sound sharper… **colder **within its myriad of nuances. "It's hard." I whisper, but the old man doesn't seem to hear me. _Damn him, and his piercing eyes_. I can't shake this cold feeling he has given me and it makes me shudder a little. "I love him but it's complicated, he…" I concede that much, wanting him to surrender before I give in to my nausea. But Dr. Van Dale continues his tempting silently, remaining persistent in his cruelty, zealous in his quest. "I did everything he said, but it wasn't enough." I shrug, and it's still not enough. "Seth didn't know what to do. I kept my secret, even from him. Even from Cohen…" I feel my eyes well up, my cryptic meanings escape even me, but I blink back the weakness in them. Cause I'm better than that, I know that much. 

The air crackles with the birth of more questions, but I need to stop before I lose myself to the spinning in my head. My eyes go back to my hands, maybe hoping to find something up my sleeves as a last resort… _Always my last resort_, I think bitterly. And I pull up my sleeves, watch the skin sizzle a little at my glare. How peculiar, whenever I see the hurtful pink I feel just a little saner than before. Yet it aches to look at them. "This should've been fucking **enough**." I hiss at the old man, and thrust my wrists out to show him what I did out of loyalty. Out of despair.

Van Dale doesn't look at me though, not even a glance over his glasses. He simply presses the nuisance button on his intercom and I'm taken away again. Too brazen for his tastes, I think silently when I'm led back to the common room. Too truthful, too rude…I can't pinpoint myself all of a sudden. And my pinkish sanity is vanishing again. No one wants to see the rebel in me, I mutter under my breath when we veer off from the ugly noises filling the general area. My heart thumps its way up to my throat, and I can almost smell the rancour of the solitary hole. I can't imagine Van Dale would ever do this to me, he's above corporeal punishment, right? _Right?! _

"Please_, get_ your hands off of her!" I look up, relieved to have the harsh grip on my arm immediately released. I self consciously roll my sleeves back down, _no need for sanity right now… _I've got Cohen for that now_._ And I smile for my curly boy. He seems so uneasy though, and doesn't give me his beaming lopsided grin. He waits until the whitecoat goon has left us, and guides me to a table. No one else seems to be there, and I'm fearful cause change hasn't ever done me any favors. I see tiny beads of sweat glistening at his brow, all of a sudden I'm hot too and anxious for the show. 

He reached out one hand to take mine, and kisses it gently, while his other hand starts digging around the collar of his shirt. I must've looked puzzled, cause Seth finally smiles for me. 

"Do you recognize this?" My gaze lands on a long silver chain that he's wearing around his neck. 

I shrug, "Did I give it to you?" I'm rewarded with his famous half smile, and instantly feel so much softer inside. "No, Summer." And he guides my hand with his, and my fingers curl around a gorgeous golden band that's dangling from the chain. My throat constricts at the sight of it. _I don't want to know,_ the people in my head seem to silently shriek along with me. Quickly, like I've been burnt, I close my eyes and drop the hand he's holding.

"You have a wife?" Someone asks using my voice, and I wish they wouldn't, not daring to open my eyes to see his expression. He takes my hand and kisses it again, humming my name in that way that only he can. "Yes." Suddenly I remember how I felt in the Doc's room, how hurt I was. I understand the guilt he had in his eyes, the turmoil. He knew he'd crush me like this. I want to call out for Fat Bertha, desperately needing some static in my brain just this once.

"Summer," I face him, tears ready to trickle down and drown me like familiar nightmares. "You're my wife." I don't respond, I don't do anything so he shows me his hand. I see an identical ring gleaming back at me, and I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. 

Seth pulls the chain off, and hesitantly places the ring in the palm of my hand. It burns almost as much as my scars, yet I can't drop it. _The queen of contradictions_, the voices whisper sadly. I feel like I've done that before, let things shatter for myself. "I want to take you home Summer. I want to go back to us." 

I don't believe I've ever felt this sane, and for a split second I want to check to see what color coat I'm wearing. Maybe I switched sides, swapped luck. Or maybe it's just Seth. I nod at him, loving how his dimple winks at me for good measure.

"You have to show me where to go. Okay?" 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Don't sue, I own nothing…except for the crappier bits of this story 

**Author's Note:**Yes I am a horrid person who can't for the life of her update quickly. I can't help it, I have to share my computer with other people…people who don't necessary understand that I need to gaze at OC fanart for a few hours before inspiration strikes. Thank you so much for the awesome reviews you gave me last time around. I think you guys broke a record for the most reviews I've ever received on one chapter. So ^-^ thanks again. I'm glad you liked the marriage twist, but for the people wondering how old they were. Well they married young, and I'll give the reason for that soon I hope, so they are mid twenties now. About 24 now I'd say. Oh and next chapter (which I promise I've already written half of) will be all about her return to Newport. Okay read on, review please because gosh you've all spoiled me now. And I really hope you'll like it.

Ch 10 

_Inside my head's a box of stars I never dared to open  
Inside the wounded hide their scars, inside this lonesome sparrow's fall  
  
Outside the rain keeps falling  
Outside the drums are calling  
Outside the flood won't wait  
Outside they're hammering down the gate_

_I climb this tower inside my head   
A spiral stair above my bed   
I dream the stairs don't ask me why,   
I throw myself into the sky_

_Inside – Sting_

_She sat at the foot of her four-poster bed, soothing pinks helplessly waving back at her as memories swept up her muted emotions. Her tears just wouldn't fall, yet her mood was lower than she could have ever imagined. It had been weeks now, alone in her bedroom, rebelling against good sense and everything he had taught her. Everything he had done to protect her. Yet she was being pushed by something beyond herself, to disregard all of it in its overwhelming grandeur. She was tired of feeling so tiny all the damn time. So futile, despite the fact that this was her life._

_"I don't want them to take you away from me."  She had heard her daddy's voice plead with her at every turn. Remnants of his comforting presence still linger around her, yet it wasn't the same feeling …not as strong. Not as safe, without him there to emphasize it all. His little girl was stubborn though, eyes ablaze with fire, as she tried to hold herself upright against her demons. _

_Unpredictable in her actions, so kind in her intentions, a chorus of voices hissed at her but she didn't hear what she didn't like. And it kept getting colder in her pretty room, making it so she could hardly hear the soothing rush of the ocean. Numbing her until all she could feel was her incessant guilt. _

_Daddy's voice was fading now, things got fuzzy again and she refused to think about the things he used to warn her for. She felt things tingle at all the wrong places, and all that seemed to fit for her was this boy with his sympathetic eyes and kind smile. Fearful all of a sudden, the little girl wasn't steady in her skin anymore, not like he remembered her…She was starting to forget too. _

_"You can't stay here by yourself," he whispered to her. And she'd wanted to believe him, but something told her she was alone for a reason. That no one but her daddy could ever handle her. She thought he was so mean, being right every single time, and so she didn't obey him. Even if his blood still clung to these walls. Even if he had only just turned cold. Her father couldn't take her sweet boy away anymore. No more rules, her madness declared and she smiled slyly. The pink room instantly feeling softer for her. _

_So she let him in, showed him her world. With a kiss she danced with him, because she remembered he loved it so. Because she wanted him to love her enough. The boy promised her peace, and with his ring she hoped she'd feel it all the way through. And it would be a new beginning._

_"I'll be all right Daddy, I've got Seth now." She said before she left her pink room, a whisper to a ghost that would never hear it anyway._

_***_

"You know," my smirk feels larger than all the potbellies lining this room in their tight-fitting uniforms, "I never really liked you." I hear some of the patients stop in their tracks and for the first time in the history of this common room, there's a distinctive hush to be heard. It encourages me, pushes me on into doing something I have never dared to do. Silence is a more pleasant drug I declare to myself, and continue to stand up to the nametag people. "I was just pretending." The orderly in front of me doesn't seem that amused, while on the other hand I manage to get my institutionalized audience to burst out into a chorus of cackles and other weird noises. "And I'm sure…yes me, I'm **sure** of something," I grin, no one getting the joke but me, "I'm sure I won't miss anything at all."

I see my salvation walking alongside a very aggravated Doc., none of it fazes me and my sense of self swells. I smile at Seth, but he's too immersed in his discussion with Van Dale to glance in my direction. I am not shaken though, and I realize that this is a very good sign since even I am recognizing it for all its worth. He's already infused me with endless warmth that I can hold onto when I'm unsure. 

I've never felt like I've had my fair share of good fortune. And in this one gratifying moment I am taking back what has been kept from me most of my life. I won't even turn to look back, or cry, or watch the sad crazy faces I leave behind. And things seem cleaner somehow, like I'm ridding myself of all the distorting clutter in my mind. I direct my eyes back to my slender finger, a simple golden band infusing me with a knowledge no one could ever comprehend. Perhaps I can't either, but that's all right too. Time is plentiful for once, and I'm giddy at the prospect of spending it with this man.

Fat Bertha looks a tad bit sad as I watch her approaching me, weaving her way through the doting crazies that have surrounded me like rabid fans. "Come on," she barks with less force than she would have normally, and I'm touched. Maybe she'll miss me after all, perhaps I was the most fun to torture out of her mass of victims. I smirk at the back of her head as I follow her to my room, and pride becomes something I feel most comfortable with, as if I were its rightful owner after all. 

She hisses that I need to get changed, and my heart soars. Like a blind woman ready to see daylight for the first time, I step out of my uniform of lunacy and discard it like it should've been so long ago. I glance around my grey little room, fold my bland dress rather clumsily and hand it to her. In turn Bertha thrusts a pair of jeans and a crisp white T-shirt at me. I smooth my fingertips along the soft feel of the shirt, and my eyes itch all of a sudden. Crying with joy seems the most fitting ending to this place, and I'm certain it would stun them all. And what could be more gratifying than shocking them straight out of their minds, I smile benevolently at my vengeful side. 

"It's nonsense if you ask me," Fat Bertha says rather bitterly, and I'm not sure why she's being like this. "You're obviously too insane to be living anywhere, solitary is where they should keep the ones like you." I slip myself into the comfy jeans, and rather slowly turn to face her. My status winks back at me, and I reassure myself that she wishes she were like me. The wife of the boy with the dark kind eyes. "Takes one to know one." I purse my lips, embracing my position and relishing the childishness of my words. If she wants to fight, she should know that at this moment I feel like I'm saner than anyone, and I have a feeling I have claws when my wits are about me. I shut her up with my nefarious grin, and she grumbles softly as I step out of the tiny room. I've taken her might from her, and my stomach twists in euphoria as I finally see the woman I was hiding inside of me.

I see Seth at the end of the grim hallway, his face matching his surroundings. My stomach crushes my new-found bravado with fresh waves of nausea, and I listlessly tuck my hands in my pockets. A familiar sensation seems to crawl through me, in an instance my new clothes have lost their luster and my ring its shine. And as old tortured times, my fear grabs at everything I thought I owned. 

"This is final Doctor, my lawyer has been perfectly clear. Since Summer is my wife I have the right of attorney here, and I'm certain this is what's best for her. I'm hiring a live-in nurse, and the rest of her needs will be met." Seth declares with so much confidence it feels like he's put out the lights in my eyes. His poise mocks me, and I can hardly breath for fear of losing what little I possess. 

I want to whisper that he should know better, confidence is the cruellest prelude to failure. Suddenly it dawns on me, the beautiful amount of faith he's putting in me. In my ability to grasp at things he's hoping I'll eventually remember.I want to cry, whisper my apologies beforehand, but I'm certain he'd only be embarrassed. And I'd do anything for him, so I swallow the tingling fright traveling up my spine and try to remember what joy felt like.

"What have you actually done for my wife?" Seth commands, and Santa shivers slightly as his rage resurfaces with a vengeance. Yet all I can notice really is that he called me his wife again. It lifts everything off of my chest for some reason, and I gulp in a breath of air. 

"My visits were the turning point in **your** therapy, and don't you forget that!" I'm enthralled by this kind man's anger, _for me of all people_, and yet despite that it feels so unnatural to see him rage like this for any reason.

The old man's upper lip curls with fury, but his voice doesn't change while he half hides behind the stack of charts in his arms. "I can't believe…" he swallows the insult that must've lingered at the tip of his tongue, and instead returns to his poised cool Santa-esque demeanor. Seth seems annoyed by the transition, and his curls bob angrily. I silently wish for peace, for quiet time, I can't understand it but I wish I didn't have so much riding on either of their expectations. _There's so much to screw up, so many promises, I wish I didn't have to be anywhere,_ as I mutely watch the scene unfold. ****

"Wait until you live with her again, you'll better understand the situation Mr. Cohen, and then you'll feel foolish for pointing fingers. It's not easy as you might want to believe, son." My boy looks so young all of a sudden, and I could've sworn there was a hint of blush at his cheeks. His stubborn streak saves him once again, and as he presses his lips together my heart shudders in my chest in anticipation of his answer. 

"We'll be just fine, without the overwhelming amounts of drugs, or visits to some dark solitary room." Seth arches a brow at the Doc, "Yes, I've heard about your _professional _methods, Doctor Van Dale." His voice is husky, sort of gritty and sparkling at the same time, making me imagine a mountain of unpolished gems. The sound entrances me so that I almost forget to be touched by his meaning. 

"You can't handle this, I don't care what lies you convince yourself of. You can't handle the pain she has hidden inside of her. Hell," the lip-curling fury was in the old man's voice now, he wasn't wasting his time hiding anything and my world tilts a little further than usual because of it.

"She can't handle it either, so good luck with that." 

I feel indignant, towards both of them, as they plot out my life and mind right in front of me. I want to scream that _she _isn't invisible,_ she _isn't deaf,_ she _is standing right here…

The two men still don't notice me, and I feel distorted because of it. Like a painting where the colors have run into each other and ruined the image…_and now no one will ever look me in the eye anymore._ _No one will tell me what's really wrong. _

I can hardly stand the guilt that's consuming me, as flickers of recent nightmares seem a little clearer to me. I recognize the look in Van Dale's eyes, and I wish it didn't make me miss someone I can't remember as well as I'd like to. His disapproving tone makes me think of my father, an ominous feeling trickles along my skin and I shake off the thought as quickly as it came.

My husband spots me standing a little bit away from them, and I let the lovely word hum through my head until I can almost feel my lips curl in a pleased smirk. Seth tries to return the smile, being the sweet man he is, yet he can't hide the discomfort in his face. He seems worried, and his big doe-like eyes endear me, yet the trust in them scares me a little. There are moments where I feel like he's the one who's lost his mind, and I'm the sane one. All because he can't see the failure I embody, while all around there's wreckage to prove him wrong. Look around you sweet boy, I want to scream, check out my powers of destruction.

Seth takes my hand in his, amazing me even still by his sheer determination to keep me around. I can't look at him, so I stare at his delicate hand wrapped tightly around mine. He's more delicate than he knows, and a smile overwhelms me as I look into his face again. I feel like I should be the one protecting him, but I'd never tell him because he'd be crushed. 

"You want to get out of here," Seth says in such a fragile voice I don't know if I should answer right away, so I merely shrug. "I'm sorry," I offer, cool as the blue in the old Doc's eyes. Perhaps his words were meant to curse us…or me, making it so I don't remember what I'm about. 

I hear him sigh, a man almost at the end of his rope, "For what Summer?" he asks me in a surprisingly soft voice. "I know this is going to be hard." I try for honesty, since he's too beautiful for any of my rancid lies. I nod at him, and he can't deny the fact I've lain out in front of us. I'm not easy, that's a sensation I won't ever be able to grasp onto.

"I know," I'm rewarded with his sparkly dimply smile, and I treasure this gift as if it were the last one I'd ever receive. Seth leans into me, and I relish the press of his long frame against mine. 

"You look nice." He declares out of the blue, and I can't believe it makes me blush. 

"Summer," my curly haired boy almost sings my name, and I look up for him. He presses his perfect mouth against mine, and I feel so still. "Who needs easy when I married you?" I chuckle despite myself, and then playfully pinch his butt. "Thanks."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Life sucks, I have nothing but my lame fantasies of being in Adam Brody's lovechain. Perhaps even his E! True Hollywood story if I could get a little luck come my way. 

**Author's Note: **Honestly, I've been insanely busy so I hope this wait wasn't too bad. I hope what I was trying to get across did come through. Newport isn't kind for the crazies, and it's even crueller to this poor fanfic writer wannabe. I hope you'll all read and review, thank you for sticking by this fanfic. I appreciate it, and I'll unravel some more of the plot in the next chapter. I have some more surprises in store for you, I hope my updating skills will improve by then. ^-^ This is dedicated to the ever fab Maroon 5, (especially my yummilicious drummerboy Ryan) for the best concert Amsterdam has seen in ages. Oh, and Adam even sang "Brown Sugar" for me, I got a wink and a smile from Mickey. Okay, lol enough groupie business, they just rock!

**Lost In Babylon  **

**Ch 11**

_Fumbling through your dresser drawer, forgot what I was _

_Looking for_

_Try to guide me in the right direction_

_Making use of all this time_

_Keeping everything inside_

_Close my eyes and listen to you cry_

_  
I'm lifting you up_

_I'm letting you down_

_This is not goodbye she said_

_It is just time for me to rest my head…_

_Must Get Out – Maroon 5_

During the drive to the airport I try for distraction, losing myself in the hum of the engine, the swish of the wind waving me off as we sweep further from the building I've grown so bitterly accustomed to. I can't make myself take in the scenery, and all I allow myself to recognize is the wiggling in my belly, something I faintly identify as anticipation. I feel like I'm about to receive some gift but I can't seem to remember what the occasion is. I glance at Seth, his eyes transfixed on the traffic buzzing around us, and I long to touch his face. I don't know why I don't, my hesitation seems too pressing in a way and I wonder if I shouldn't push my luck with him. Things have been too easy with him, his devotion too generous. My brain purrs with answers to my insecurity, _he's your husband…he loves you…he rescued you._ And in a flash, I'm content again, or so I'd desperately love to be.

He's so silent that I don't speak either, and everything feels blurry and unclear. The thought strikes me that his nerves have finally raced up to the surface, and I feel a dull sense of guilt somewhere underneath my skin. We are shuffled on board, and as the plane loses its head in the clouds my emotions soar and plummet according a mad woman's whims. I finger the little window and have a staring contest with the sun, making the rest of me suddenly feels at peace again. 

"Do you recognize anything," I turn back to him and watch him smile playfully. My stomach tightens, and I pray it doesn't show. I wish he wouldn't talk of memories, but brush my awkwardness off again. 

"Yeah Cohen, now that you mention it, the sky looks kinda familiar." I smirk and hope my eyes are mimicking the lightness dancing in his, pleasing him with what a normal person would do. _Joke, right?_ I glance back at my wedding band, and notice that his has returned to his finger as well. It looks nice there, and I hope I don't do anything to make it leave his finger again. 

I'm quiet once more, but it's not as easy as before and I ponder how fresh the air outside my little window is. If it's dreadfully cold out there, I suck in a breath and give another weak smile.

It's one of those moments where sane people would ramble about nothing to fill in the oddly empty air. And I get a sense that he'd like me to do the same. To fulfil my promise, prove that his actions were well worth the effort. Showcase my potential of the wife he bargained for. He turns his pretty head my way, and I want to whisper that he shouldn't try to fix me, I'm not that far gone anymore. A little frayed and torn at some places, but nothing too bad I hope. I want to make desperate promises, but I remain mute because even though it isn't the easiest route, it sure does feel a lot lighter than pretending normalcy. 

_I don't believe them_, a fellow patient had scratched into her own thigh with her nails one randomly gray day. _An insanely agonizing thing to do to yourself_, the nurses has murmured amongst themselves in their usual loud voices. I had watched her sitting there, wondering what had been said to her, what she was rebelling against. How luxurious all that pain must have made her feel, since I hadn't felt anything for so long. I had fantasized about re-igniting the pink scars at my wrists, testing my own bravery, and facing the bright color of my own blood again. 

Once I had almost gathered the nerve to ask her why she had needed to remind herself in such a painful way. Was it really so easy to forget what she felt to be the truth? Yet I never dared, especially since my own mind was always playing tricks on me. I wasn't one to talk. 

I don't know why I'm thinking of that woman right now. All I can understand is, that right now believing that my wish has come true is nearly hurting me psychically. I can feel old wounds throb in bitter accusation. 

Seth reaches for my hand, and I realize he's the one who needs reassurance here. I've been in this situation before, biting my tongue for the sake of not scaring him off. I'm certain his presence will be all the intoxication my madness will need these days. _Just be cool. Don't blow this_, my head growls at me. The plane lands into sheer sunshine, and I don't feel so cold anymore. I can swear I almost heard the ocean, perhaps surviving another December was all I had to do.

"Are you tired?" he asks tenderly, and his fingers intertwine with mine as we leisurely stroll among the crowd of normal people scurrying beside us. Before I can answer, he declares quickly, "You get to be honest with me." I smile for him when his tone goes playful, and try to hide my fatigue. I never knew it was this hard, smiling when you don't understand the curves of it.

"I'd like to go home." 

Seth tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and gently cups my cheek. I feel so tiny afterwards, like my madness won't fit inside of me for much longer. I want to share my strange thought but I wonder if this delicate man could handle it at all.

He nods solemnly, and I detect a hint of pride glinting in his chocolate chip eyes. Perhaps my boy loves the word as much I do, and I hope I'll remember to use it some more. Seth's hand glides down my back, guiding me to this place that adds so much to his already breezy eyes. I lick my lips and suppress these feelings fluttering in my stomach. 

With a certain urgency, Seth glances down at his watch, and we abruptly stop walking as he rummages through his travelling bag. I idly flick my gaze at it, an odd sensation grabbing me by the throat… 

_Deja vu has a bitter aftertaste_, I tell myself silently and try not to worry despite my trepidation. His hand re-emerges, and there between his elegant fingers, the image of an ugly yellow pillbox rips apart any safety net I was holding onto. I knew my wishes were futile, in one mean moment, his face turns to regret as he catches my gaze. 

"Look, Summer…this doesn't mean," Seth's wavering tone isn't as adorable as I had remembered, and I hold up my hand to stop him from speaking. "Please," I say with my quivery smile, the one I'm certain no one could ever be convinced by. 

"I'm used to it." I never knew how pitiful that was until I say it out loud like that. From the look on his face, it doesn't make him feel any better either. I run my hand through my hair, and bolster myself to look him in the eye. I feel like bleeding but smirk instead, and it's almost like the prospect of my old routine was chasing away what little sanity I had gathered. It doesn't matter though, I command myself, I'm adamant to fool everyone, and above all myself, so I brightly say, "Really, it's fine. I should've known that wasn't going to change." _But I hadn't known at all, and he sees it too… _I feel like crying again. But I don't cause I don't do failure, not in public any way. I never fall apart beyond the borders of my own mind. 

The air zings with tension, and I try my best to bleakly shake it off of me like water. I don't dare ruin this before I've even had a chance to see the beach. I really want to see something beautiful, _feel warm again._ Though, at the same time, a part of me wants to smack him for putting me in my place again. My violent side never gets what it wants, and I swallow any snide remarks I might have shot at dear old hubby. _Traitor_, muted voices hiss at me, and I obediently hold out my hand, sure to avoid his look. I will not save him from his own guilt, I refuse to, since it's what he should be feeling in my opinion.

Just as I discreetly pop a pill into my mouth and wash it down, I notice two people. A man and a woman, I could swear it looks like they are eyeing us from afar. It isn't exactly natural the way they are huddled together, whispering to each other, as they frantically look away and then glance back at us. I decide to chart it to New World paranoia on my part, reasoning that I haven't found my footing yet. And perhaps I did need that little white pill as badly as everyone thinks, but the situation shifts when I see them don bashful smiles and come our way. Seth seems to notice them just as they are a few steps away. His expression is hard to read, until he doesn't do his best to suppress the frustrated groan that escapes him. I give him an odd look, but he seems too preoccupied with shooting daggers at the pair of them.

"Sum!" The tall woman says way too enthusiastically, and I give her a blank look as she comes walking toward us. I feel the ease that was coming over me instantly dwindle at the sight of her, the prospect of failure hiding in the hopeful smile she's sending me. I lower my eyes, hoping she'll get the hint. I wasn't built to be subtle, and a part of tells me I am not always kind either. 

"Uhm, hi Summer." She tries to amend, but she's still just this long stem of awkwardness if you ask me. I glance in Seth's direction, leaning further into his arm, and notice he's exchanging looks with this woman. "I don't know you." I bark at her, pushing her away from my territory, reminding her who is standing in curly boy's embrace. He's the only person I really know in this world, I can't lose my grip now. I frantically finger my wedding band, petrified it might've dissolved in the presence of competition.

That's when my gaze lands on the serious looking man beside her, I notice his hand on her back… the way that Seth always seems to guide me along as well. I'm relieved, something I only used to feel through medication only. I wouldn't have wanted to scratch her eyes out, she seems like such an innocent. I take down the malice in my stance a notch, and let myself take them both in. 

"So," I twirl my hand at them, "who are you?" Seth mutters my name, and I realize I don't like being treated like an insolent child. How did he expect me to react, after he had freed me from my cage? There had been a reason I was put there in the first place. I glare at him for good measure, and then return my eyes back to this intriguing pair. 

The brooding man lets a smirk glide through his stone cold expression, "Good old Summer," he grumbles out of the corner of his mouth, and the Amazon woman elbows him hard in the side. "Ouch, I just meant she seems to be…well like herself." I arch an eyebrow haughtily at them, announcing I am still present and… well not enjoying the topic very much. 

"Ryan, I thought we'd see you in a few days or so. Give her a little time to adjust." Seth's mahogany eyes weren't as warm as I was used to, his stance was rigid and uncomfortable. I realize suddenly that once again I'm the cause of uproar. I don't think I should feel this proud. For noticing things, for being **this** important **this** soon. But I am, I feel it tingling beneath my skin, the sense of accomplishment that this day has been lacking from the start. I watch the man named Ryan awkwardly run his hand through his hair, an apology evident in his blue eyes. "We know, we just wanted to…" he glances at the lanky woman at his side, "Sorry man, we were just making sure you got here alright. We'll see you in a few days. Right?" He sends another glance at the childlike woman beside him, as she met his gaze with a bewildered look of her own. She nods unceremoniously, unsure because I made her that way. Guilt swirls in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I should speak, inject something into this awkward situation, make it healthy and normal again. Like everyone is trying to do with me. 

The pair gives Seth another remorseful look, and then the man starts to guide the woman away from us. I feel compelled to make amends, it seems like she needs protecting but she's lost someone to help her. "Marissa," I call out, not understanding, not wanting to when I repeat the name…louder this time. I watch the girl's eyes light up as she turns on her heel so quickly I almost think she'll fall. I feel triumphant, captivating people has become a talent I've grown addicted to. A mad woman's trick I strive to perform as much as I can. "I'll see you soon." I give her a long look, letting her know how much I'm trying to fix this…_myself._

She nods feverishly, beaming as if I had just found her on-button. My head hums with the blossoming effects of my medication, but I return the smile anyway. Everything feels cloudy again, and I vaguely hear them exchange goodbyes. I watch them turn their backs to me, and I turn away as well, sensing I don't like it when people walk away from me.  

"I need to sit down," I say to no one in particular, but then I notice I'm not alone at all. I have this man staring at me, a mesmerizing yet peculiar expression clinging to his handsome face. He finds me a chair, yet his eyes never leave mine. I nearly lose myself in the possibility of peace. The easy clarity in his brown eyes. I can't convince myself that being content is something tangible, so my insides reel with the promise in this man. 

"Everyone I've ever trusted has left me." He just stares at me, like I never even said anything as remotely odd or painful as that. I purse my lips, wishing I could see the ocean already and instantly feeling melancholy. 

"Well, not me." Seth says, leaning nearer as he gradually warms the air around me. He'd keep me safe, he was convincing me of that bit by bit every day. "Not ever again." He adds with a hint of regret clinging to his bouncy curls, his lopsided smile. I raise my hand to wipe the worry from his forehead, smoothing the remorse right off of him with my fingers. "Shh Cohen, you aren't making sense." I see a flash of something I can't understand in his face, so I just kiss him to be clear of things again. His hands dive into my hair, his mouth is urgent and kind like his character, and everything else is erased.       


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except for a whopper of an addiction to this show. But hey, who doesn't right?

**Author's note: **First of all I'd love to thank my sweet beta's for being two very cool ladies. And now for every awesome person who reads this story, you are saints for being so patient and I totally suck for being so slow. It was a lack of inspiration that kept this chapter from being posted, as well as my fav cousins coming over from London. So again, apologies! Now to every sweet person who reviewed, **Brody – **he left her at the institution, didn't he?! Or is that not what you meant? **Bluestar** – ya big bully, everyone go read this girl's work, she's superb! **Darrel, Anxious & Muchtv**, sorry I know I'm slow, next update will be quicker. **Melanie **– I did have the general outline planned out, but it's the getting it on paper which is tricky. Yeah M5 is the best! **Kayla**, there will be more memories in the next chapter. **Candy**, lol thank you that is the funniest review yet! **Sethluver**,** bop1997**, thanks a lot! **RockinTheOC **– wow thank you, that means a lot. I'm so glad that you think you think the hospital & her illness seem real. I adore your writing! And **Zander'sgirl**, well you always blow me away with your reviews, I find myself smirking all day because of you. Thank you all so much for being so sweet, I just had to shout you all out personally! I'm already working on ch 13, so please read and review and let me know your thoughts. Thanks everyone.

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 12**

Days like this, I don't know what to do with myself   
All day – and all night   
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath   
I say to myself   
I need fuel – to take flight –   
  
And there's too much going on   
But it's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion   
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion   
  
Is that why they call me a sullen girl – sullen girl   
They don't know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea   
But he washed my shore and he took my pearl   
And left an empty shell of me 

Sullen Girl – Fiona Apple

"Welcome home Mrs. Cohen." A chorus of people declare rather cheerily, too cheery for my taste really but I'd never say that out loud. Upsetting the scheme of things is not in my agenda anymore, and I tightly press my lips together until it almost feels like I've no way of speaking ever again. No way of harming anyone in this clean white world. My anxious nature is making it so hard to enjoy my new title. Mrs. Cohen, it almost sounds like sanity if I were a gullible woman, one without scars to remind her of all that faith has taken from me. I faintly register the warmth of this place and wish I'd feel the comfort I had hoped it would hold. Unnerved by the spinning ways of my mind, very quickly, I shake off these buzzing thoughts.

Dressed in the starkest shades of black, the row of people before me smile like their souls depend on it, as white frills eerily peek out from certain strategic parts of their uniforms. I wonder if they're spies sent by the Doc, but I'm just left feeling annoyed by my own fear of white uniforms. Incessantly, I seem to be trying to comply with more pleasant emotions but the bitter part of me is sturdier than I had imagined.

So I glance in Seth's direction, seeking some refuge in his reaction, but he seems as freaked out by the display of staff lining the driveway as I am. I should be better than this, I tell myself in mute strictness, and smile for them. Mimicking the mannerisms of what I would think would qualify as normal. It's harder than I would've thought yet my smile never falters.

_See, your boss' wife isn't as loony as you'd all like to think. See, I can still function_… I hope Seth will see my shaky efforts as bravery, even if I don't feel any valor in my petrified state.

Ever my willing guide, Seth leads me past the awkward looking drones and towards the entrance of this impressive white mansion. I let my finger trail into the intricate pattern carved into the sturdy wooden door, hoping it would hum all this house's secrets into me. I can feel all eyes on me, and swiftly remove my hand again, afraid they'll see I haven't got a clue. I hardly have a moment to stop and take it all in, new information has never felt this stifling before. And suddenly I wish the fat lady in the apron were in fact Bertha in disguise. I need something familiar, something I can hold onto when the shiny new things become too blinding. As if hearing my frantic thoughts, Seth pressed a kiss on the back of my hand and shows me what reassurance feels like. 

"Do they all have to be here?" Seth grimaces along with me like I have just voiced what his mind had been spinning with all along, and I adore him for understanding me like no other. 

"They're a gift." He chuckles softly, and his sweet dimple soothes the demons scurrying wildly around in my belly. "Who gives people as gifts?" I want to laugh, but am suddenly overcome with pity for these poor people imprisoned in their stark uniforms. Right away they seem so far removed from the uniforms I knew back when green walls were all I was used to, and in an instance my fright has fleeted. 

"My grandfather." For a split-second he seems to wait to see if his words will jog something loose within me, but I'm blank as usual. "I think it's his way of being supportive," Seth continues undeterred, "He didn't think I could handle keeping a household along with…" 

A deep blush blossoms in his pale cheeks, as I watch in amazement. I can't help but want that for myself, that I'd be so aware of things and feel as fiercely as him. My curly boy looks like he's just tasted something sour, and decides not to finish what he was saying. My eyes itch unexpectedly and I'm surprised I feel so sad, "dealing with your crazy wife?" I end the sentence for him. 

From the look in his complicated eyes I've hit too close to home, so I stop talking at once. Being right doesn't fill me with the sense of accomplishment I've been yearning for. I cannot think about his family, or mine, or what kind of effect my presence might have on life in this sunny place called home. I deeply want to find a bed and sleep and not think at all. 

"Don't worry about him, you won't have to see anyone if you don't want to," my protector says in the most stern of tones. I find myself wishing I didn't bring out this primordial version of him, it unnerves me that my madness could damage the rare gentleness of this man. 

"But they expect to see me right?" I glance at him, warily, looking for the first signs of corrosion in his sweet demeanor. I hope I don't ruin this man. I hope to God I don't turn the faiths against me again, I've longed for good fortune for such a long tormented time. _It's my turn to be happy, isn't it?_

"At some point." Seth admits, "But you that's up to you, baby." I try to stay focused, but I'm struck by the tender affection in his voice as he calls me baby. I smile for him, tilting my head slightly as my inner vixen overcomes the murmuring voices bubbling in my mind. "Up to me…" I repeat it as if it were a diamond I had found in my shoe. Unexpectedly enchanting, but its origins still as mysterious as before. I idly tap my fingertips against my mouth, relishing the feel of the words as I mouth them again. I grin once more, while this man is making things so easy again. Control is something I've been lacking for too long, and here he is, eager to fill in all the holes that I've worn into me. 

"How odd," I croak, making my husband quirk a smile my way and I can't help but return it. He must find my reaction endearing, but this is all so very new. "I think I could get used to this." I try for composure, but my eyes still twinkle with fiendish delight, like I have just got away with snatching some big prize yet no one minds that I'm a thief. He grins back at me, and I am blown away by the pleasantries and innocence conquering this moment. I never knew that knowing only one person could be so comforting amidst the terror of this brave new world. 

I'm glad Seth is my only confidant. I'm glad I am his. Or so his abstruse eyes seem to whisper to me whenever he forgets to catch himself…and hide the extent of his desperation. I get to see traces of this trembling, almost savage need he has for me, which bolsters me to continue with this desperate quest into my psyche. 

For the first time really, I glance around, removing my gaze from the familiar back to the strange. I can feel him watching me take it all in, gauging my reaction while I can't seem to summon one up at all. _This doesn't bode well for my re-entry into the sane world_, my mind purrs dejectedly, so I try to smile my defeat away from me. I give Seth a piteous look, and pray he understands how hard I tried to see more in the shiny floors and gleaming marble than mere good housekeeping. Urgently pressing me against his slender frame, Seth proves once again what an odd mixture of frailty and strength he really is. Some part of me wants to look at him, ask him how he manages such breathtaking contradictions. Beg him to explain how he keeps so much hope despite my ceaseless failing to meet any of his standards. I want to ask him about the woman I used to be, but his heartbeat thumps my depressing thoughts into submission and I merely busy myself with breathing him in.

"How about you take a rest. I'm sure today has been overwhelming." I nod, complacent despite the nasty taste his words leave in my mouth. It reminds me too much of the cooing condescending words which got so easily thrown about at the clinic. "You need to lead the way, Cohen." 

He takes my hand, and like an infant I'm guided through impressive yet incomprehensible hallways. We make our way into a quaint bedroom that does nothing to tempt my memory. I'm grateful for its simplicity, but before I can even register the sought-after emotion Seth is leaving my side again.

"You're leaving?" I say rather stupidly, which instantly makes my cheeks feel like they are on fire. Seth smiles sweetly at me, which only leaves me feeling even more embarrassed. 

"Maybe it's best if you had your own room for now." It's his moment to blush, and for some reason I feel the urge to arch an eyebrow at him. 

"What do you mean?" Some strange part of my brain prods me in the back and I'm acting in a way I never knew I had the backbone for. I didn't know I wanted him to stay this much, or make him feel this uncomfortable this badly. I don't know which one is my motivation, and maybe I don't care that much anyway. Seth doesn't know what to say, I can tell because he's doing that stammering stuttery thing he did back when I kissed him in front of the white-coats. I feel pleased and don't fully understand. 

"Doctor Van Dale and the medical staff suggested that we had to take this slow." He won't stop blushing, despite the fact that he's finally been able to say the unspeakable. I nod solemnly, and I hope I don't come off as bitter. I glance around the room, and all of a sudden I notice another bed. "I didn't think you cared what Van Dale's opinion about this…**me**, was." I say, slightly disconcerted and a whole lot disappointed. Seth looks uncomfortable again, and his silence makes me bite my bottom lip nervously, realizing that perhaps I'm missing something bigger than I am.

I look at him for a moment, taking my time to scrutinize him because I can't think of a moment where I really **looked** at him. His rescue of me was enough for me to pledge my undying loyalty and faith in this man. But now… My chest constricts and I wish he'd leave for a while, let me soak this in. This new identity of mine, making his generosity feel like chains around my wrists, cutting me deeper than I had ever done before. 

"Sometimes…" I start, not really registering what I want to say but certain I should speak…explain myself to him. I want to tell him that I hate it when people assume things about me, think they know what's best for me. Think they know who I really am. I don't even know, how could anyone else? I chuckle, too bitter for anyone's taste. 

"You just," my brow knits in frustration, "sometimes you remind me of my father… and it makes me so angry." I'm puzzled by my words, yet nonetheless a sense of knowing travels through my veins and I'm urged on again. "He didn't trust me you know. Not completely." I see in Seth's face that I'm hurting him with my mindless gibberish. I want him to notice how much this pains me as well, but perhaps I shouldn't except anything as raw as this from my delicate husband. 

"What do you mean?" His voice cracks a little, and I can't tell if it's anger or hurt or a mixture of the two. "You aren't telling me the truth." I realize I don't have anything left to care about his feelings, my indignation is too filling…too consuming, and perhaps I love being blind this way. Goosebumps form all over my skin, and I'm shocked at how cold it is in this house. 

"I… feel that there are things you need to explain to me. Why did you bring me here?" My eyes well up, "I mean, I know you took me with you to get me away from…" I don't want to mention the place I came from, so I bite my bottom lip. I tuck my hair behind my ears, centering out of place things within myself, and continue a little shakier, "You have to know I'm grateful, but god, I'm so angry that no one feels the need to fill me in. It's like I don't matter, I'm not stupid, Cohen." I might be crazy but that doesn't mean I've turned into an imbecile. 

"Summer." I recognize the exasperation in his tone, and it chills me how distant I feel towards him because of it. I give him this look which makes him hesitate again, and I can tell he's unsure of where he stands. It seems too easy at times, remembering old routines and bad habits even, but I can't be bothered with trying anymore. Especially since the really difficult stuff is staying at the back of the line, hiding out till all the trivial information is out of the way. 

The old man springs to my dizzy mind, and I grasp at the fact that I know the peculiar shape of this moment. The one where I plead for one little hint, a piece of my very own puzzle…and he'd look at me with those dusty blue eyes, heartless in his own kind way, and hand me nothing at all. I feel so tired suddenly, memories suck you dry and for the life of me I can't understand why I had wanted them so badly. Even Seth's brazen brown eyes seem to slowly morph into a dark shade of azure. All of a sudden it almost sounds like they are whispering my defeat instead of his love for me, that I'll always remain the clueless one here. The patient forever trapped in her straightjacket.

"Okay," I concede wearily, ever the obedient child. "Maybe you can answer me this," I look up at him, idly registering how immensely safe his presence had made me feel the first he came to visit me. How he stuck out amongst all of the depression surrounding me in that visitation room, since he always seemed too bright for that place. His curls bobbed with new possibilities, his eyes filled with old phantoms and this beautiful sense of peace amid their darkness. Too clean to be consorting with the likes of me, yet I also felt I had earned my spot beside him. I can't rid myself of contrast when it comes to him, and somehow I've decided contrast can be a beautiful surprise.

Seth nods, albeit having a stressed look about him as well. "Who is going to be sleeping there?" There's no need for me to point at the conspicuous extra bed in the room. His dark eyes look even more despondent the moment the words leaves my lips, and it breaks my heart to think of what that might mean for me. It literally crumbles when I remember the answer to my own question.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anything O.C. related, Fox owns everything.

**Author's Note: **I appreciate your reviews so much, you have no idea. Please keep them coming. I am so happy you are enjoying this. How's this for fast updating, at least it's fast for the likes of me. I plan on spending the next 2 weeks stalking the cast of Ocean's Twelve, so yeah, I thought I'd give you something if any of the fellas decided to take me to Rome. Can you believe no one wants to go George hunting with me?! Oh, also, the bed wasn't the big deal I made it out to be, it wasn't a cliffhanger it was just a way for me to end the chapter and kinda show how Summer's brain jumps from one thing to another. We already knew who was sleeping there. Kinda. Let me know what you think. I'll give you more insight on how Seth is feeling in the next chapter. I think it's time Summer realized that her condition affects everyone around her. Once last time, thank you for being such awesome reviewers (and omg for reviewing the ficlet I posted yesterday, I was blown away!!)

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 13**

_Oh, this is the start of something good_

_Don't you agree?_

_I haven't felt like this in so many moons_

_You know what I mean?_****

_And we can build through this destruction_

_And I, all I really want is you_

_You to stick around_

_I'll see you everyday_

_But you'll have to follow through_

_You have to follow through…_

_Follow Through – Gavin DeGraw_

The darkest hour is the one before sunrise. I avidly keep reciting that line to myself as I wait for the night to be over. Concentrating on the tempo of my breathing, I solemnly watch the shadows gliding along the ceiling. Their quiet grace soothes me in its slowness and I feel as calm as ever. It won't be long, they seem to whisper during their dance, and I am certain that there's truth in that.

I'm ready for a new opportunity, new bursts of light amidst which I can prove to my madness that I am leaving it. I never liked goodbyes, especially since it did comfort me at times, but I need to brave now. The slow shivery pictures in my head, these emerging memories have strings attached to them, and it's expected of me that I change partners and dance. Like these dark patches on this ceiling, I'll glide away from the darkness I was trapped in before and I'll become lighter again. Things have been heavy enough for me, _for him…_ I am attempting to reach farther today than yesterday. And to do that I must shut down my fear, brush it off of me like the sun blows away the day that came before it. I mouth the words once more, for luck perhaps, _the darkest hour is the one before sunrise…It only gets lighter after that…_

Someone told me once if you search you'll find, and right now I'm desperate for my prize. Frantic to find something to motivate me to strive on. God knows I've been searching, madness or not I've been trying my damnest not to run away but dig on. I watch the darkness swirl around me, and however odd it sounds I feel comforted by the lightness of it. There's nothing waiting for me right now, no one watching and it's like there's so much space for me to breath. I lay very still in my bed, waiting for the sun to sweep by with blazing determination. A little example of how it's done would go a long way for me.

Within all my positivity my head still drones on with voices, incessantly telling me I'm not alone. It might be dark, but I know she's there… laying only a few feet away from me, peacefully asleep. Stubborn as ever though, I bravely sweep her presence from my mind, _I'm the sun…I'm brushing on_, there was no yesterday. No mention of it any longer, I'll not linger anymore. Only new possibilities, new days to come and a little less madness to come along for the next trip.

I roll out of bed as the sun announces my shiny new opportunities along with its rise. I can't help it, I smile from myself, enforced that not even the whitecoat snoozing over there could snatch it away from me. I understand there is a need for the dark bits, in some ways I really do. Or at least I'm trying to, and isn't that the most that anyone could ask of me?

I pad across the room, and into the adjoining bathroom, when it strikes me that I've really entered a strange world. One where there isn't someone guarding me every second of the day, and I get to watch the sun rise outside my window like I have all the time in the world. Since there isn't a medical staff writing my schedule, claiming my every breath…ever move. In a little while I'll be master of my own destiny, or I'll die trying… I stop for a moment, relishing the feel of not having anyone waiting for me. I just stop, because I can. Listening to the quiet of this house, not as afraid as I was before, not as desperate since I discarded those emotions along with my raggedy hospital gown.

After taking a hot shower, I take a long hard look in the mirror, appreciating my good fortunes even more. Like the fact that I didn't have to see any other women showering beside me, no scars looking back at me besides my own… I couldn't deal with seeing all that pain all the time. I have enough to deal with, but no one at that place understood that fact…that we were already filled up to the brim and were ready to spill over. _And now_, I smile at my reflection, and shake off any demons lingering in my mind. I remind myself of the present situation and brush on.

I have to hold in the urge to squeal from sheer delight when I spot a crisp new outfit laid out across the chair beside my bed. I slip into it very quickly, afraid it might disappear if I don't grab it right away, and pull my wet hair in a low ponytail. As I step out of the room, ready to explore yet frightened all at once, I literally ache at the thought of how I behaved the day before. How I spoke to Seth, the person who gave me all this…this very smile that won't leave me for anything. I want to find him but I'm afraid of what might come tumbling out of me if I tried to speak again.

Gliding down the path Seth led me along the day before, I find the front door while I remain as silent as a shadow. Just as I'm about to inhale the fresh morning air, I collide into the one person I hadn't expected to see here, least of all at this hour. "Summer." He seems very surprised, and maybe a little embarrassed in a way. I guess he didn't want to get caught by the likes of me. I quirk an eyebrow at him, "Ryan, right?" I get a sort of quiet smile as a reward, and I decide right there that I might grow to like this man. He has an honest ease about him that has the most calming effect. I bet the lanky girl sent him to out here to explore, to check if the coast was clear for her. He'd probably do anything for her, and all of a sudden I wish Seth was standing beside me right now.

"What are you doing out here so early?" We ask each other simultaneously. Neither of us seems to feel like answering, so I shrug a little for him. "I felt like walking, I haven't done a lot of that what with…" I smack my lips together, why ruin this sunny day with talk of the past. I'm mending myself, patching up all the holes in my head. Ryan nods and I sense he understands the meaning of new beginnings. He leads us down the driveway and I get the reassuring sense he knows where the ocean is. We don't speak for the longest time, and it isn't awkward at all. I don't feel the need to explain myself. Nor does he. My head feels so quiet I can almost breath easier. Perhaps I should take my chances and ask the questions that have been buzzing around me since I watched the dawn be born this morning.

"You could've woken him up you know." Ryan cuts in before I get a chance to muster up the nerve to speak myself. He stares at me for a moment, and it almost feels like he wants to start a fight. I want to tell him the curly boy is mine, that I'll have no choice but to show the true nature of my madness if he tempts me, the ferocity of my claim on my husband…_but his words stop me cold._

"Seth would take you anywhere you wanted to go. He'd do anything for you, Summer."

I decide I liked it better when he was silent. So instead, I return to my roots, morphing into that timid mute girl I had hoped to leave back in my yesterdays. "I know, but…" I refuse to be consumed by guilt, so I excuse myself of all blame as a blush creeps along my cheeks.

"I feel like I've asked too much of him already." All of a sudden, I can't seem to feel comfortable speaking to this man, his broody ways making it as if he's hiding from my gaze. Or perhaps the other way around. He's confusing me again. His long silences unnerve me, and I realize I really don't want to catch the expression in his steely eyes anyway. He seems too deep for the likes of me. And instantly I miss the delicate bits of my husband.

"You never asked him though, he wants to do the things he does. Whatever you can say about Seth, above all things he's extremely…" "**Stubborn**!" I finish, proving how surprising I can be. I smile gently at Ryan for the first since we started this odd conversation. I hope I've proven my worth by somewhat passing the test he'd laid out for me.

"Yeah," he says in a faint tone. I don't look at him, because I'm afraid of what I'd find in his face. Surprise, or maybe not all…I can't think of what is more frightening. "So," Ryan starts off awkwardly, reminding me of the tall lady that was with him at the airport. _Marissa_, voices whisper softly to me, and I'm very still suddenly. "You can't remember anything? Anyone?"

I tilt my head downward a little, knowing that I'll get myself into trouble if I even dare answer that.

"Sometimes things come to mind," I smile wearily, not convinced of the intention in my words. "I think it's been getting better, I'm getting better…" I pray that isn't a lie, and give him a blank look. "Can I ask you something?" I rub my hands together, perhaps to fight of the cold, I don't even know anymore. It's a fear that I can't seem to shake as easily like some of the others.

A shimmering memory slowly traipses along the edge of my mind and urges me to speak. "I can't ask Seth, so I need you to be honest with me." Much bolder than the medicated version of myself, I stand up straighter as I look this man in the eye. He seems so unmoveable, yet I can tell he's been shattered before. Ryan agrees with the slightest twitch of his lip, and I still can't understand what it is I want to know so badly.

"My father didn't leave, did he?" Ryan looks so torn, awkward even as my voice turns into sobs. "He died…" I shake my head in anger, hating the loss of dignity, perhaps mourning the loss of tears. He offers me a tissue from his pocket, and I can't believe I am crying in front of someone.

"I want to remember him, but I just can't," I whisper, shaky from too many things to register, and despite it all I still look up at him…waiting for my answer.

"It was a car accident," Ryan says very carefully, it's clear that he doesn't know if admitting to this is safe. I nod my head, yet the words bounce off of my skin like they weren't real at all. I suck in a quivery breath, trying to wrap a dizzy brain around something as substantial as this but still coming up short. "Come on." He adds, and points to a path that's partially concealed by shrubs and bushes. Clumsily I follow him, afraid he'll make his claims too real for me. I don't think I can handle the dark patches this man has to show me. I regret asking him for anything. Or maybe I just regret the fact that he was able to answer me.

"My…house." I mumble under my breath, as I'm overcome by a bizarre absence of emotion. No loss, no disappointment, no surprise - nothing. I had expected to feel heartbroken at the sight of this majestic pile of yesterdays. I had expected my new-found goal to focus on the future to shatter at the sight of all this familiarity. I faintly hear Ryan confirm that it's indeed my family's old house. Something about Seth buying it just in case since it had been vacant for years now. _In case of what,_ I want to ask him, but instead I just give him a bewildered look. I wish he'd explain why this feels so odd…Why the ache hasn't settle in yet. "Has it been that long?" I say more to myself than him really, trembling with an unsettling sort of calm as I let my gaze trail down the tattered front door.

I twirl on my heel to look at him, nearly pivoting out of balance when the magnitude of this tries to creep up on me. "Why did he do this? Why did he keep this place?" I want to go back to the white mansion I just couldn't remember, forget about this damn haunted place…and yet I can't. I can't turn around just yet. I made a promise to myself today, to overcome whatever is torturing me before it overcomes me instead. I don't even really register the fact that Ryan isn't answering me. My head and stomach seem to have swapped places and I'm so nauseous I can hardly stand upright. God, the voices in my mind are howling again, and I'm missing something so fiercely I can almost hear the pain droning through me.

"I don't feel so good," in an instance I feel Ryan grab me by the arm, very gently for a man as rough as him. I lean against him, shaking my head a little as I close my eyes. "I don't feel any better now, I thought I would feel better if I knew." But all that precious knowledge didn't do anything but confuse me some more. Rattle my pretty house of cards, the one I was building so carefully with my curly boy, and I hate myself for shaking up the cobwebs. Ryan guides me away from the mansion, silent in his regret I suspect and I want to whisper an apology to him.

"Don't tell him about this, he wouldn't understand…" I can't be sure of anything, yet I know that I'd do anything to protect what flimsy faith Seth has in me.

"You're okay Summer," this strange man reassures me, smiling with a stillness I can't wrap my mind around. His words churn around in my belly, I can't buy into lies as flamboyant as that. I refuse to fool myself any longer. I won't be fine for a very long time. I shake my head at him, pouting because I feel so little all of a sudden. "I didn't take my medicine, I didn't listen to my Daddy…and now he's gone. That'll never be okay." He can't say anything to that, and his well-meant smile instantly corrodes away.

**_ETA:_**_ Was it clear that Summer remember her father's death and Ryan didn't tell her first? He only told her how he had died. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **Well I got a new job, so if I save up a little I could bribe Fox into letting me borrow the cast of the O.C. Just think of Fox as a big pimpin' company, and once I can cough up the change I am so getting some Brody action. Or at least go shopping with Rachel right?! I'm weird I know, that's fine though…I've accepted it…

**Author's note: **So I've been working, that's why I haven't updated really…that and the fact that I've been trying a new layout out on my messageboard. (shameless plug, check out my profile page smirk) So that worked out, and inspiration struck after talking to one of my fab betas. I still can't find my other gal, but I'm sure she's lurking about somewhere. I totally want to thank everyone who keeps reviewing this story, I am so appreciative, you have no idea how happy your super nice comments make me. I'm not too happy with this chapter but I wanted to kind of give Seth's POV. Also, I'll give more of a definition to Summer's illness asap, I am back on track again and I think the next chapter will be done pretty quick. So sorry for making you wait as usual, I am trying to be better. Please read and let me know what you think.

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 14**

_Oh god I hope I'm alright_

_Cause I'm gonna cry_

_Hold on, hold on_

_Slow down, slow down_

_You're out of touch_

_Out of touch_

_Cause there's no design for life_

_There's no devil's haircut in my mind_

_There is not a wonderwall _

_To climb or step around_

_But there's a slideshow and it's so slow_

_Flashing through my mind_

_Today was the day_

_But only for the first time_

_I hope it's not the last time_

_Slide Show – Travis_

__Voices drift down into the main hallway and my head clears instantly. I want to busy myself with something, but this place seems too clean for any of the dark things my mind is whispering to me. I hear the fright in his tone, and a bitter mixture of guilt and goosebumps won't abandon me. Perhaps it's the company I deserve at this point, but then I feel Ryan squeeze my arm and I know I don't deserve any of this. No one does. Confusion isn't a pretty sight, but I carry it off because it's my burden to bear for now. _For now…_

I look up at the long winding stairwell, and I finger my wedding band in barren instinct. Ryan and I listen silently to the argument raging up there, frozen in the moment because we're both so used to being powerless bystanders. Yet I sense he's evolved into someone stronger, a person of more action perhaps. Someone who's seen too much and needs to be part of the scheme of things. Unlike myself, he won't watch everyone pass him by, leave him behind. I can feel his eyes on me, yet refuse to turn and face him since I'm fixed in my place, stuck in the weathered old part I've cast myself in.

I'm a coward, it isn't something I'd openly admit to, yet the terror coursing through my veins is so flagrant in the air that I'm sure I'm even causing this strong man to tense up. I'm frightened of what I'll find out, and I simply don't want to be brave anymore. This day has already left me with a bitter aftertaste, promising better things then snapping back at me and showing me what little I'm made of. I want to hide away, blend into the scenery like I used to do back when I was invisible. Back when no one cared _what_ or even _if_ I remembered anything.

But here, there's so damn much expected of me. I know no one means to pressure me, but the hopelessness that my failure would surely cause could wreck me like nothing else. _I'm a coward, and I don't give a damn_…I don't want to be wrecked again. There's so little to cling to, so little to keep me upright. Why should I let their desperation do me in when mine is enough to choke on?

"I'll go talk to him…" Ryan eyes me as I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. "I'll explain."

I scoff, despite being touched by his selfless streak. I don't want to call him a fool, but I'm sure my look says it for me. "Explain what? Do you understand what happened out there?"

_Cause I sure as hell don't, but what's new there right? _He gives me a confident stare, one that tells me he's never been clueless about anything yet still does nothing to ease my conscience. I don't trust anyone with my insecurities, I reflect mutely, I'd rather keep them close to my chest and watch them eat away at me…

The voices drum at my skull again; it seems too hollow in there anyway. Too much space, too much room to fill up with demons. I don't want to desert myself any longer, since there's so little to count on these days. He makes his way upstairs, and I'm left alone again. Feeling nothing but repulsion at my spineless behavior though, I follow Ryan upstairs and tap his shoulder before he can reach the voices. He mouths that I don't have to do this, and the thought of him fixing my delicate husband seems so very pleasant, which only makes me feel guiltier towards everyone concerned. I want to explain that I'm afraid Seth will change his mind about me and send me back, I want to explain so badly but my mouth feels too dry. Instead of speaking I merely shake my head at his offer, seeing no sense in explaining my mood swings. _Sense ran out on me a long long time ago, and it's left a bitter shell of me…_

"Where is she?!" My tormented boy presses more in desperation than anger really, although I'm certain no one can tell the difference but the two of us. "It's **your** job to take care of her. God that's why I hired you, to make sure she's…" I softly rap my knuckles against the bedroom door, holding my breath without even realizing it. "Okay," Seth finishes in the softest voice, as his eyes widened a little. Trying for nonchalance, I lean my petite frame against the doorframe, steadying myself before the inevitable scolding. The room is suspended in silence, and I'm left a little rattled. Okay, a lot rattled, but composure is my middle name. I feel like I should start packing, because no good can come of the hurt in his eyes.

I catch the dirty look the nurse shoots at me, and am certain there will be more of that since no one likes to be scolded on their first day. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be gone for so long."

I apologize while trying not blush with everything in me. My boy has such a conflicted expression on his face, and I watch as he turns his gaze away from me. Suddenly I remember who was standing beside me again, and to my great surprise (and Ryan's as well I'm sure) I watch the stunning switch in Seth's features. Something colder takes over, and any soothing words I had for my curly boy dissipate immediately with the chill he brings into the room. _Doesn't he know I hate the cold? Why is he being this way?_

"That's fine." He bites out tersely, and I purse my lips a little in disbelief. "Summer," his voice snaps me back to attention while his turbulent browns finally abandon the cool glare towards Ryan, and Seth focuses on me. "I think you should go with Marian."

I guess my confusion mirrors itself in my face, because he immediately answers my silent questions. "Your nurse." Seth gestures to the pissed off looking lady standing beside him, and the need to dig my nails into her smug little face seems overwhelming when her green eyes flash at me with malice. Before I can protest and unleash some of my suppressed violent tendencies, Seth strides over towards me and kisses my forehead. I wish he would stop being so shaky in his emotion, I never know what to expect. Slowly, I smooth my hand along his cheek, wanting to let our contact linger for a few more seconds but he's already moved away from me.

"Sure," I declare meekly. I want to tell him how I really need to feel his eyes on me for a little longer, but Seth has already returned his gaze back to Ryan. I hate that I'm causing a rift between them, I hate that I feel so… so naughty I guess, when I really haven't done anything wrong.

_"What was that all about?" _

_"Nothing, don't try and pick a fight over this, man. It's pointless." _

I can still hear small shards of the boys' conversation, and I'm nearly salivating at the chance to steal some more, as I rather clumsily follow the fierce looking Marian down the winding steps. I reach the bottom safely, to my surprise and relief. And somewhere along the way I must've stopped wondering why I wasn't offended by his tone. I guess my guilt for having confided in Ryan swept away any indignation towards his cold demeanour. And now, standing here as this foreign lady hands me an all too familiar cup of pills, I am filled with nothing at all. Everything seems to be going in fast forward, and I feel so left behind. All emotion is swept clear out of me, and I just stare at her venomous eyes and am overwhelmed by my own wretched stillness. My mind is still up there, with those boys I've all but torn apart.

Although this hired nurse would like to think she matters, with her mean-spirited ways and her flashy eyes. She does nothing to capture my waning attention, and I can't even spare her a look as I swallow my meds, and dash up the stairs again. I can hear her bellowing something at me, warnings that seem too sugary to be threatening, too soft for a real whitecoat to utter. I scoff a little to myself, while quickly muting her feeble objections by saying I forgot something important in my room. I'm taking two steps at a time now, short legs or not. I forgot to tell someone important that I didn't mean to hurt him.

Unlike the other whitecoats I've run into during my mad life, this one has no backbone and does nothing to stop me. Or perhaps I'm the one who's evolved into something sturdier. I can't be certain and I idly think I miss the fire of my old nurses, but simply brush it off as I reach the door of my bedroom again. There I go, slipping into old roles, slipping out of my skin and into the shadows in a way. I can feel my pulse quicken, and I don't know if it's because of the dash up the staircase or the excitement of hearing words that weren't meant for me. _Secrets can always heat up the air…_I guess the latter, and hold my breath.****

"Remember when she was to be all I used to talk about." Seth's voice gets this dreamy tone about it, one I wish I could evoke in him in my present state. I press myself harder against the wall, praying to catch their reflection in the grand mirror on the wall. I finally do, and hope my invisibility holds.

"You mean that's changed?" Ryan's tone is playful, and it makes my boy grin as well.

"Okay so maybe I'm a little obsessed, there's nothing wrong with that." Seth's cheeks redden slightly, and he let's out a soft chuckle. I feel like a sneak for standing here, but my meds aren't making the guilt seem real so I just hold my spot. Relishing the secrets I'm getting to feast on, loving the warmth of this particular spot.

"You should've seen me before you came to Newport. It was pitiful how badly I wanted her to notice me. I would've made a deal with Satan if it meant her smiling at me, or even looking in my direction." Images of a young curly boy standing somewhere at the edges of my life seem too sad to even comprehend, so I don't even bother with the pressing guilt. I just don't bother since hurting is too hard to even think about…

"But you got the girl, Seth." I don't see the reaction I would've wished for in him, as I watch the slight slump of my husband's frame. I can't be the cause of all of this, I won't be… I shake my woozy mind and tell myself to be silent.

"And when she first looked at me, like **really** looked at me." Seth gives a nervous rather embarrassed chuckle, like he's just noticed that he's been saying all this out loud. And yet he continues with a beautiful bemused look on his face, "It was all worth it, I remember thinking I would've faced anything to get a few more minutes of that." Seth raises his hand a little, rubbing his fingers together in search for something as he licks his lips. "Remember that?" The men share a contented smile, and I feel so left out. I want to jump out and have them notice me, but once again I remember what a coward I am. They have their memories, and all I have is their word to go by. How is that fair? How can that **not** be scary?

"Living in this place got easy, as long as I was with her. It wasn't as plastic or fake anymore, not to me at least. Does that make sense?" I watch Ryan nod at his friend, and I can tell he's thinking of the person who made that happen for him. My mind runs off track right then, goes off at a tangent and I find myself in a whole new realm. Things feel crisper for a few precious moments, and I think I can feel the magnitude of his words. I remember how sharp the lines became for me back then, how much brighter the colors in this place got when I was with him. When he was holding my hand. I didn't think about Daddy or medication then, I was just thinking about his eyes and how I was the ultimate focus for them. How he'd only notice the things about me that no one else could see. Yet he couldn't see the darkest thing of all…I press my lips together, inhale sharply through my nose and make my mind go quiet again. I feel too sharp now, like everything is too heightened, too dangerous.

"But it's like I'm constantly lowering my ideals, man." Seth's voice cracks just a tad, and I try in vain to make myself think I didn't hear any hurt in his voice. Ryan stays quiet, because I guess that's his role here, so I stand very still and try to mimic him a little. I try to cling to the fragments of my past that are twirling inside of me somewhere. I thought I had a grasp on things, but then he speaks again, and makes it all feel so desolate.

"First I just wanted her to be okay. I didn't even need to see her if that meant she'd be upset. And then they said it was okay. And God, I was so fucking happy." I smile when I hear the desperate joy in his voice, the cursing cements how badly he felt or still feels it. I hope he still does, because that means I hadn't imagined it after all. He was happy too, happy to see me again. And maybe I can make it so again.

"I didn't have any hopes though, maybe that she'd smile for me like she understood, or recognized me…loved me. I don't know man. I wasn't sure, maybe I just wanted her home all along above all of those other things. And I just wanted to be able to see her. To have her make things easier again. Cause no one knows Summer like I do, _right_?" He scoffs as he emphasizes the question in his words, and I loathe the sound. I hate that he's bitter too. Ryan opens his mouth to say something but Seth holds up his hand, he wants to stay angry for a little bit longer. I can tell from the brightness in his eyes.

"Remember when I used to say that out loud, like it was something to be proud of. Well when they proved me wrong…" He pauses, and just stares at Ryan, giving him that painful half smile he does when he really can't bring himself to say something.

"And now she's here," he says way too cheerfully, "now I just want her beside me. In any shape." ****

"Maybe that's just being realistic, you are still allowed to hope for stuff…improvement, but you get to be content with what you already have. This is real, she's back home. Look where you two were a month ago. That's something."

_Hush, Ryan hush_, I mouth in desperation. My boy is upset enough, I want them both to just be quiet now. Everyone should just stop digging in the mud, there's so much buried there. _Too much._ "Yeah, something," Seth mutters listlessly. He tilts his head down a little, like he'd take any crumb thrown his way, and my stomach churns harshly. Ryan looks annoyed that he broke his precious silence. "Look, I'm sorry if I made things more difficult for you. Marissa wanted me to check on you guys, and well...I wanted that too." He places a hand on Seth's shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "You two will be okay, if anyone will, it's you two…" Ryan says in that same quiet confidence, and all I really want is to stay hidden from all the expectation flying around the room, all the comforting promises.

I watch the two men stand in the room in awkward silence, and then Ryan just sighs a little and walks out of the door. "Sorry." He throws back over his shoulder, and then nearly bums into me. Being the subtle man he is, he acts like he didn't catch me spying on them and moves further towards the stairs. I want to thank him for being so odd, but then there's also the need to step into the room and comfort Seth. I press my lips into a hard thin line, and manage to grab hold of Ryan's hand before he descends. "You're okay yourself Ryan." I whisper under my breath, not even really looking him in the eyes cause stuff would just get complicated then. I'm trying hard as it is, and I feel that's more than enough for now. I can feel him squeeze my hand before he turns around to go downstairs.

Time kind of loops on me again, and before my mind can catch up I'm standing in front of Seth. The sun seems to be rooting me on, cause the room is suddenly filled with such immense light and warmth. And yet I still can't find the ease of things. "I'm sorry." I say because I don't know what else is expected of me. The crazy one always apologizes to the sane ones, isn't that how it's always worked? I smile wryly and Seth is giving me that funny puzzled look again.

"I was eavesdropping." I shake my head a little, certain that my head is this fuzzy because of that damn Marian lady. "I figured," my sweet boy says with a grin, and now it's my turn to look puzzled. "I'm the one who's sorry, maybe I should say that to Ryan as well, I just…well I've been a little high-strung lately." I snort a little, which amuses Seth as well, "You're not the only one." Oh thank god, there's that beautiful dimple again, flashing for me again, I'm so damn relieved.

I let my hand slide along his arm, and take my time to look him in the eye again. "You need to make me a promise." I wish I could tell him that he should swear off the hopes he has. I don't want to cut myself into a perfect mould again, I can't stand the sight of my own blood anymore. But I don't… I don't ever say what I mean. I stare him down, watch his pretty eyes gleam innocently at me and all at once I'm so grateful for this man. He nods without hesitation, and I can't think of anyone who would be so giving. "You need to be the person who is honest with me. I don't even mind that nurse anymore…" I smirk about that blatant lie, but I'd do anything for this man, "I don't mind much. But I need to feel like you are in my corner." **__**

****

"I was planning to tell you…"

"Tell me what? That my father's dead and I can't remember." I suck in my bottom lip, a little frazzled by the harshness in my tone. I don't mean to be this cold, or maybe I did, I can't be sure of anything through the wooziness that has come over me. I guess in a secret dirty way I was waiting for a way to spring my trump card on him, and now… my head spins a little, and I badly want to sit down. Now that I see how frozen Seth is, not even a friendly flop of his curls to reassure me, I know that I shouldn't be so cruel anymore. I shouldn't ask for promises when I am not even worth them. You'd think freedom would make a nicer person out of me, but it's only made me more leery, poised for attack. I guess I have more to lose this time around.

Despite the hurt he must've felt at my jab, Seth is sturdier than I had imagined. "I hate what's been done to you, what you've had to go through…" He is staring at me, then looks away again, "I just…didn't want to put you through that again." Chewing on my lower lip a little, I feel like the biggest villain, "I don't understand how you can always be so nice, when I'm just **not**." I pout a little, remotely impressed and so disconcerted with what a bitch I can be, meds or not.

"You are to me or I wouldn't be here. And I'll stay as long as you like." His voice sounds scratchy and bold, like he'd even challenge God if it meant saving me. I need to press the pause button on all of this. I just have to, no more fastforwards for me, I won't panic any longer if he'll stop along with me. "Promise?" I glide my hand into his hair, and God he's so pretty right now. Even prettier when he winks back at me. I have him in my corner, lighting all my heavy bits, I'm certain of it as his long arms pull me flush up against him. _Maybe I won't be a coward too much longer_, and he kisses me gently. _Maybe…****_


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine, Fox rocks! (except for the time when they cancelled my Firefly!)

**Author's Note: **Time to shout out all my wonderful reviewers individually. **S**, a formal definition of her illness will come either in the next or the chapter after that. Thank you for reviewing. **HOTTERTHNU**, well coming from you that's a huge compliment, thanks so much. **Carpanters21**, LOL, well no not that I can remember ;) Thanks. **RockinTheOC**, wow seriously it still throws me when I read your comments cause I am like a huge fan of yours, I am currently trying to catch up on One & Lady In Red. Everyone read any of her stories. **Candy07**, thanks a billion, you always review and I am beyond grateful. **Obsessed01**, big huge hug, thanks so much. **Samantha**, I am so glad you are enjoying this. **Kim**, well I'm glad I made you cry in a good way. Seriously, so awesome that I have people who like this. **SummerSethShipper**, yeah I'll give you an exact illness soon, promise. Thanks for your review. **Anna**, oh that song is gorgeous, I downloaded it at your recommendation and I love it. I'm glad you feel it, going by the early reviews I got no one was actually feeling this except for me and my beta maybe but I'm glad that's changing. I'll use the song in one of my chapters.** Melanie-37**, lol sorry about your best friend thing, this Marian will not be very pleasant I think. I'm glad you like the Seth bits, I was wondering if having her eavesdrop again was pushing it a little but hey no complaints from you all makes it fine by me. Thanks for the review. **Nikki**, you are too sweet, here's your update. Thank you for reviewing. All of you!!

So I hope this chapter meets your wishes, please read and review and make me into a happy camper. Oh, and I've somehow lost both of my betas, so if there are any mistakes, blame the fact that I am Dutch. To my Canadian beta, I miss you sweetie, prepare for a long email. (whoa, longest A/N in history.) I'm off to watch Holland kick some Czech ass in football, I love the Euro Cup 2004!

**Lost In Babylon**

**Ch 15**

_Oh, the pleasures of June_

_I'm in a parked car_

_Flowers seem friendly _

_And people in hallways fill rooms****_

_If things get real_

_Promise to take me somewhere else_

_By the time fear takes me over_

_Will we still be rolling?_

_And feeling oblivious…_

_Feeling Oblivious – Turin Brakes_

****

****

I wake up with a start, a harsh tremble of my heart and I'm shaken to my core, frightened due to some lingering fragment of what could have been a nightmare. Yet instead of feeling lost, I blink a little harder than usual, and make out his shape hovering calmly near by bed. I stare at him, unsure if I really woke up or not. I could've been the one who asked for this uncommon visit, I think in my sleepy state. Not directly perhaps, but as I sit up a little in my bed and try to command my brain to wake up, I'm slowly starting to accept the oddity that is my life. And when things get odd, I usually start to look for the cause with the oddest thing I know, which would obviously be myself. Subtlety not being a virtue I possess, my behavior might've called for him to be standing at my bed like this. I just need to figure out what I did to get him to this point. I notice his mass of hair is still wet from the shower he must have taken at 4 AM or so, at least I guess it must've been at that time since it still isn't near dawn. I can't quite make out his face, the sun seems too shocked to show her pretty face, and I idly wonder that if I could see his expression it would be at all decipherable.

I finally see that he has two leather-bound books in his hands, and due a fresh burst of curiosity I quickly slip out from underneath the covers, a little self-consciously as I wrap my arms around myself. I feel like the restless night has left me a little disarrayed, more dishevelled than I'd like him to see me in any way. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cover it with my hand and point to the sleeping form in the far corner of the room. He doesn't even glance back at her, and instead gives me this weary look that sends a shiver to travel down my body. I have the good sense to mute him once more when he tries to speak again, and the distinct feeling that she'd ruin everything won't leave me, although I don't have a clue what there is to preserve here. Once I've pulled Seth out of my bedroom and shut the door, my concern with appearances has fleeted, and I realize that he isn't really looking at me anyway. He seems too preoccupied, his delicate fingers gripped so tightly around these books that I'm nearly afraid he'll hurt himself. _Calm down sweet boy_, I want to whisper, but I feel like I shouldn't say anything until he speaks. Until he explains this before I start to doubt that I'm really awake or not.

"Seth," I say, not being able to resist knocking him out of this spell he's in. I swiftly press my lips together when he finally looks up at me, and it's almost like he's seeing right through me. I decide I don't like him not noticing me, transparency has lost its appeal…with him it stings too much.

"I wanted to show you these before, but I knew that…" This time, he really catches my gaze, and I gratefully let his sparkly eyes flicker over me. My wounded pride is soothed for the moment, and my stomach swirls giddily as I give him a demure smile. Go on, my eyes purr back at him, but there he goes again, losing himself in this little tortured plane he's trapped on and I wring my hands a little in worry.

"Well they said it wouldn't be good to hand you so much information at once. That it would be too hard to deal with. But I made you a promise." Seth is silent again, and it feels too unnatural so I brush a few fingers along his chin, making him look up at me once more. I silently curse myself for making my madness stretch so far that it's covered him along with me, the air feels heavy and stifling yet I manage to keep my tone light. "What are you talking about?" I want to kiss him sane again, to cease these incessant fears gnawing at my conscious. He smiles, too oddly to be comforting, causing my stomach to twist a little when I see it. Seth takes one of my hands in his, _so delicate…so careful_, and I adore this man and his simple ways, "These belong to you," and he places the two books in my hand, covering them with my other hand.

"They kept saying that taking you back…_that far back_ in your past would only do more harm than good, but I don't think anyone can make that decision for you. Secrets aren't going to help you, and I don't ever want to be dishonest with you, Summer. I don't want you to think I'm anywhere but on your side. Everything I do is about you, for you."

He blushes hard then, swallowing the last bits of his words back into a whisper. I watch enthralled as the blood pushes up along his cheeks, quick and fierce, like he hadn't expected to say those words out loud. He hadn't meant to admit his biggest weakness perhaps.

His eyes flicker with raw flecks of guilt, "I don't want to make things harder for you. Really, I don't." And once again, I'm muted at the most significant moments in my life, disappointing when a moment has more weight and value to it than usual. I am sure I should tell him, that like how he felt with me all those years ago, he also makes life easier for me. But I don't, trembling behind my stone cold facade. And so I watch him give a swift nod, a silent reprimand for himself I assume as his handsome face grows pale again, before he continues with what he was saying.

"So these are your diaries…" I rub my top hand a little along the weathered leather, daring to move for the first time, yet I can't look at these bundles that belonged to me once upon a time. _I just can't_, my gaze is so glued to this man, this gentle boy who is defying all the rules for me… And all I can think about is how brave he is. How unbelievably courageous, I can't believe he doesn't see how scared his bravery is making me feel. How inadequate, imperfect, I really am, as he's handing me these forbidden fruits. His words are just springing past me, fluttering around in my head but never landing, while I just continue rubbing my fingers along the leather covers.

"They are both pretty old, you wrote them long before…"  
"My father died." I finish for him, without any emotion, to which Seth gives another brisk nod to swiftly brush past my painful lack of memories. I'm grateful for his tact, and try my best to smile him a thank you. "Yeah, I think one of them is even from before your parents' divorce. I just know you always kept them around, but the clinic disapproved of them I guess. The policy…" But he doesn't finish since he knows neither of us cares about that cursed place's policy. My head is aching at something he said, but I can't remember what it was, so I glance down at the treasures in my hands for the first time since he handed them to me. Just like with my old house, everything feels stalled, like I'm suspended in mid-air, just waiting for the drop. _Just waiting for my crash…_

"What do you think?" My voice is small and uncertain, mirroring this strange foreboding sensation swirling at the pit of my stomach. "What do you think I should do? Do think I should read this?" I can't believe I am voicing my fears, it seems too unlike myself to be so transparent, I'm usually more muddled in my ways.

"It depends on you, on how you are feeling." I glare at him a little, more pissed off than I really mean to be. I just wish someone would give me a straight answer for once, can't they see that I am asking for their help, that I can't make a decision to save my life. Or my sanity for that matter.

"I don't know how I am feeling, or how I'm supposed to feel about anything. You of all people should know that." Expectation never meets reality for me anymore, but no one wants to accept that integral fact. I lower my sharp tone back to the hushed whispers we had both been speaking in, cursing that damn Marian just for the sake of being yet another person I need to be considerate of. I am fucking tired of being considerate, I'm the tortured one here, people should walk on eggshells for me and not the other way around. My voice goes back to its angry heights for the sake of sheer rebellion, "Like right now, I don't know if I should love you or curse you for giving me this. One moment I'm sure Seth, and then I'm just not." And I'm sure I sound pathetic, like a child whining to an adult who can never understand this alien point of view.

He digs his hand in his still damp curls, cursing under his breath as he deftly avoids my eyes again. Frustration laces his every move, and it feels like an eternity as I watch him tense up right in front of me. And however unlikely, for a tiny moment I'm glad he's abandoned his short-lived bravery, it made me so uncomfortable. Another hiss of anger escapes my curly boy, and I wonder if he curses the same people as I do. The whitecoats, Doctor Van Dale, God, my father, my mother… me? Oh please, I hope he doesn't curse me, it's my madness' fault. I cannot help this anger itching against my skin, these devious whispers that tempt me to hurt myself and wreck everything I care for. His calm collected face is all flustered now, and my insides flop helplessly at the thought of my salvation, my Seth, tiring of me so soon.

"I thought this was the right thing to do. I…I spent all night, I don't know, just sitting there, staring at those damn things…" Seth gestures angrily at the tattered books in my arms, and the soft stutter stretching his words seems to snarl at me, "thinking about what I promised, about protecting you. I don't know either. I'm trying here Summer."

Guilt churns in my stomach, and I hold the diaries closed to my heart, feeling them throb painfully against my ribcage. I feel like the eternal coward, and there is no self-pity left to spare for me.

"I thought this was the right thing to do." He repeats with less fire this time, less confidence. He's back to being a boy, a sweet delicate twisted little boy who wants to help but can't figure out how. A boy brave enough to admit that sometimes he just doesn't know.

And despite common sense, aside from my heart going out to him so, it only manages to make me angry. I don't understand why, but watching him in this unlit hallway as this unkind fatigue tugs at my limbs, I can't help myself. Any sense is flushed right out of me, and I'm back to being the wild woman who got sent to solitary holes. I feel red sparks shooting through my veins. I will not be the one at fault, I just won't be. Because aren't I the victim? Am I not the one who's been cut here?

"You'll be the one who saves me and I'll be the thing that wrecks you. Isn't that the game we are playing here?" I hold my breath for a moment, hoping the lack of oxygen will calm me down so I don't do anything foolish. The moment seems unholy, like I am committing a deadly sin against a saint, but I can't care since he is pushing hard against my boundaries. Those treacherous outlines that keep me from falling apart, and aren't they all I have anymore?

"I know," I shakily interrupt when he attempts to speak. "I know I am unreasonable, but I'm allowed!" I hold the books tighter to myself, biting my lip so hard that I taste my own blood. It isn't like I remembered. "I just wish you would realize that I am not as brave as you. That I don't have as much faith in myself, in this…" For a second I curl my fingers tighter around my diaries, unsure of what I am trying to say. I gesture between the two of us, too frantic even for a crazy woman. "In us." I end softly.

"Sweetheart," he tries to soothe, quirking into a weak smile that only makes me shake my head. His confidence radiates off of him in waves, and I hold my breath for a moment. "I need some space. No," I shake my head, conviction making the traitorous skin at my wrists itch as if it were on fire again. "I need a lot of space Seth, and I can't give you what you need. I can't let you save me just yet."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you…" I look up at him, watch him squint at me in the semi-darkened hallway, and for the life of me I can't keep the flutter out of my heart. The anticipation is always there, and yet the fear of not holding up to my end of the bargain makes me cower a little. He falters, blushing like the boy he is deep down underneath all the shiny new bravado. "I don't know how." Seth licks his lips, glancing between my face and the pair of books held tightly in my embrace. "I don't know how to fix this, or help you…" I curl my fingers tighter around my bundle, my eyes prickling with moisture at his words, and then simply drop them with a thud. I frame his face with my little hands, barely being able to brush my fingertips against the little curls at his temples…and I kiss him, decisive in my moves I pull back again to look at him. He looks stunned, a vision that I remember all too well yet cannot place. I am used to this, and kiss him again to jar the loose bits in my brain. He holds me to him for much longer than I intend, and we part for air.

"I just wanted you to be honest." I say and shrug gently, feeling tiny again as his big hand smoothes my hair back from my face. "That's all I wanted." And I try to say that I want him more fiercely now that I know he's petrified like me. Now that he's clueless too. "I know," Seth managed to let out hoarsely, and the thought of him being a mindreader hops through my brain again. "That's all…" I say once more, and Seth bends down to pick up the books I had dropped so carelessly.

I yawn, just as the sun decides to lighten up the shadows around us, which makes Seth grin a little. "Thank you." I offer smoothly, smiling as well while patting my books a little nervously. Tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, he presses his lips to my forehead, murmuring his goodnights or goodmornings when I know neither of us will ever get a wink of sleep all after this.

I watch him turn away from me, unsure and slow in his steps, like he doesn't quite know what to do with himself now that he's done what he set out to do. He walks away, off to find his bed again I think, and it rattles me again so I turn away as well, trying to hold onto the light ending of this particular episode. And suddenly I'm running past Marian, past my bed…

_Click_, and I'm locked in the bathroom. Unsure of myself, and my intentions again, I drop myself to the floor. Cooling my bare legs against the gleaming white of this little room, it takes a while before I realize I'm sitting here in darkness. I finally reach up to flip on the light, blinking back harshly against the loud fluorescent glare. My fingers flick and flutter along the pages, opening one of the diaries on a daring whim. I want to read but my eyes blur and water as if protecting me from myself. I feel wilder now that Seth has left my side. When he turned his back on me, all notions of sleep or peace vanished with the swift shuffle of my feet against the carpeted floor, and these small books tittered at me to open them. To have a glance, to finally understand. A loud sob escapes me in an unguarded moment, and my eyes focus unexpectedly, do as they are told…and yet I can't look just yet. My mind is being assaulted with violent thoughts, whispering my inadequacy, my inability to handle what I cradle so tenderly in the palms of my hands.

_I don't want to feel this way, all sour and cold and at the verge of tears, but I feel like I am a mirror of her lately. Like her mood swings are latching onto me and slowly sinking in. I hardly see her smile anymore. I remember that she used to be happier with us, with me. I almost asked Daddy what was wrong, but I know that he'd just smile indulgently and dismiss me before I had chance to ask. I want to know why my name keeps popping up in their sharp loud fights, why her eyes seem so mean lately. _

I trace the words, too foreign to have been mine. Too manufactured, and far too distance to be a reflection of who I thought I was. I wonder if Seth read all of this, if he could tell me how to best react to it. My right hand is quivering a little, and I clench it into a fist to make it stop. The thought of him having read this, all of these words seems petrifying all at once and I swallow hard to rid myself of the taste of bile in my mouth. I reread the last sentence scrawled almost illegibly at the bottom of the page, before shutting the diary and pushing the books off of my lap. An image of a kind lady who turned cold for no apparent reason trickles along my brain, but nothing settles but the weird sensation of not being able to recognize my own handwriting. "She'll leave soon." Something inside me made me say it aloud, and in an hard unforgiving way I press the heels of my hands to my eyes to stop them from leaking. And no matter how hard I think about it, I can't remember hearing a goodbye.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **Nothing's mine, except the cheesy bits.

**Author's Note: **Okay so me watching Euro '04 diligently didn't help the Dutch team much, (wave to my fellow Dutchie out there), but I guess Greece deserved to win. And aww, who felt bad for the Portuguese when they started to cry? Anyway, back to the OC. Sorry for the long wait but my computer ate half of Ch 16 and I was in mourning. You all blow me away with the reviews you leave. I'm getting spoiled here. Oh and Anna, I am officially a David Gray fan, thanks! I'm leaving for London next week so I'll try to get Ch 17 with you by then. Enjoy this, I think the length kind of makes up for the wait…or at least I hope so. Leave me a review if you like. (wow I've tried to upload this 3 times now, let's hope I'm lucky this time)

**Lost In Babylon  
**

**Ch 16  
**

_Don't push me cause I'll fall in love  
__With whatever you just said  
__Don't push me cause I'll fall in love  
__With the way you wear your head  
  
__I'd like to say goodbye  
__To a complicated mind  
__But when I walk and wave  
__I'm stalked all day  
__By California lives  
__And things I didn't try  
__Ways you were unkind  
__And the strangest colored eyes  
_

_Nada Surf – The Way You Wear Your Head  
_

A series of loud abrasive knocks wake me out of a distressed uncomfortable slumber and for a few frightening seconds I'm confused by my surroundings. I shut my eyes again for a moment as I start to slowly come out of my haze, and realize that hours must have gone by since it's so light in here. I had propped myself rather inelegantly up against the edge of the bathtub, and had somehow managed to fall asleep in this most painful position. I rub my neck a little in vain, and push my hair out of my face. What had I been doing here again? I glance around and see the small books discarded at the other side of this little space. I don't have time to let things settle down in my mind, because I'm instantly reminded that there's someone in the other room very eager to come in. Another few hard knocks on the bathroom door, followed by a frantic cry by a very distraught sounding Marian, and I can't help but cringe at the desperation in her voice, "Miss Roberts? Are you in there? Are you alright? Miss Roberts, if you are there, answer me!" She tries for command but the woman is failing miserably on all fronts. Losing a patient twice in less than a week isn't something that leaves a good impression, and from the way her voice is going squeaky I imagine she is thinking the exact thing.

"_It's_ Mrs. Cohen." I croak too softly for her to have heard me, as I manage to scramble up to my feet and pick up the books. "Oh God," I hear her mutter a few curses that I can't make out and decide it's time to put her out of her misery. I unlock the door and am almost knocked over when she pushes it back hard. "Woah, what are you trying to do, break down the door?" I try not to smirk but it's so hard not to what with this woman looking like she's about to burst into flames. Little beads of sweat pop up above her top lip and forehead and just the sight of her exhausts me. Her sickly green eyes flick over me, and finally rest a little too long for comfort on my hands…_No, I didn't slit my wrists_, I want to hiss at her, _maybe later_. And I really wish I didn't deeply mean that. I swallow my nausea and somehow manage to suppress the need to be cruel to this woman. I can just imagine the look of disgust and shock it would've gotten me though, and that's enough to satisfy for now.

"What were you doing in here? Why weren't you answering me?" She seems to ask a billion more questions, as her face flushes to an unflattering shade of red, and it doesn't matter since I've already shut her out. I don't like her tone, and from what I can tell she doesn't like any aspect of me so we're even in a way. We're locked in some sort of pathetic stare-down and my bolder bits kick in. "Isn't that a little private to be asking, we've only known each other a day." I lick my lips, and smack them together for good measure. I do not like you, nor will I ever. But I don't say that out loud because I'd like to think I'm better than some things. I want to push her out of my way and leave her standing like that…mouth agape and foolishly red in her face. But I don't, I feel cavernous, hungry for her humiliation. Defiance is my game today, people should know better than to mess with me when I haven't had a wink of sleep.

Marian opens her mouth to speak but reconsiders, and a smooth flush of triumph courses through my veins. She kind of looks me up and down, and pushes back a strand of hair into her stern looking ponytail. "I don't have time for this, Mr. Cohen has sent for you."

I try not to react but my heart pounds so hard and loud, I think I might go deaf from the sound. I don't want to think about what I read…what I tried to understand but this irritating woman is picking at my sore spots.

I coil my shaky fingers around the frilly fabric at the bottom of nightshirt, I go on until they ache, until I feel less cowardly…less furious with this woman smirking at me as she notices my new-found uncomfortable state. "He said to come _now_?" At the last word my voice does this ugly squeaky thing and I wish I could be snarky again. I wish I could be cruel. Power switches sides again, and I feel betrayed. She nods, trying to hide the glee behind her sharp cold smile. I glare at her, my eyes seething at her to shut up…but rationally I know she isn't speaking really, it's my damn paranoia again and perhaps this is me paying for making her twist in the wind.

Her lips quirk into a full out vile smile, "You have to get dressed, there's company today." I am certain my face has turned to a nauseous shade of green, and fear makes me break into a cold sweat. I can tell she's relishing this but I don't speak or move… "Who?" I hear myself whisper meekly and Marian's grin broadens considerably. Thoughts race through my head, images of all those faceless people I've been dreading to meet…and I think of Seth's grandfather, the man who can afford to give people as gifts. And I wonder how he manages to get away with that, how no one even dares to blink at the cruelty of it. _Or_, and I hold my breath a little, bushy brows come to mind, and I can't decide if I'm thinking of the old man, or…_Van Dale wouldn't come, would he?_ I'm not sure how I feel about any of this, but what's new there?

"She's eager to see you. She's missed you so much, Summer. She wants to say goodbye, properly." I look up at Marian again, who is openly staring at me, no amusement in her eyes any longer. "What did you say?" I snap, too cold, too sharp to brush it off with a laugh. And Marian seems genuinely surprised. I know my fear is showing, but it's hard to hide something that overwhelming.

"Nothing Summer, I didn't say anything." And straight away my ears buzz when she says this, because I know she isn't lying. I know I'm a little loose in my head, I can feel the difference, ever since I read those fragments of my childhood. "I told you what Mr. Cohen told me, that there will be company, I don't know who it is either." Marian can't help herself, the overt pity in her eyes is confirming how insane I really am. And here I thought I wasn't that bad.

Her nurse instincts kick in, because she takes me by the arm, and sits me down ever so gently.

"You didn't mention her?" I try a little more miserable than I had hoped for. Marian shakes her head, not asking who her is, as she morphs into this mute whitecoat. My eyes burn with tears, but I can't seem to weep any more. "You look so pale," and I just look at her when she says this, how is she helping me by saying that? No soothing words from this one, I think oddly when she grows quiet again, and I can't stop myself from wondering if I had imagined the whole conversation. All the malicious looks, the pounding on the bathroom door…_the books_. I glance down at my hands, and yes there they are, held tight between my pale fingers, all tattered and heavy and so damn haunting.

Her fingers brush along my wrist, pausing at the pulse for a long time and I just won't stop shaking. "Summer, what's wrong? Why are you so upset?" God, I so badly want to confide in her, to rest my head in her lap and tell her that I wish…_I wish…_

"Yes I'm fine." I manage to push out, and cling a little harder to my diaries when my insides squiggle around relentlessly. My lie feels like a big painful lump in my throat and I try to swallow it away. I try to make myself buy into it. But it's too late, as I can see her sliding away from me, to her supplies most likely. I want to know what my wishes are, I think silently, but nothing on this earth could make me say that aloud. Her needle passes into my skin, flushing all thoughts from me for a moment. I know it won't take long until the blankness will be a little more permanent, comfortingly steady and hard inside my chest, and frankly I am ready for the minute the meds truly kick in. I place my books underneath my pillow and make my way down the winding steps.

"Husband!" I call out, giddy cause I know Marian has taken care of the gloom that loomed over my head. Or at least it will be taken care of, and my arm throbs slightly from where the needle sank into me. "Where are you hiding?" I am nearly skipping, which frightens me on some level because I know I am lying again. If I fake it hard enough, maybe it will stick. I smile to no one and turn into the living room, when my stomach flops at the sight of someone else beside my curly boy. He looks pained, or pissed off, and I almost want to call out to Marian to give him a shot as well.

"Hey", Seth mouths as he moves towards me, protectively shielding me from the stranger's view. Or the stranger from mine, I don't have time to process anything, because he's looking at me so desperately. His hands smooth along my arms and rest on my shoulders, "I need a minute here, maybe you could get a cup of tea in the kitchen." I want to nod but all I give him is this look I learned from Ryan, the one with the endless questions in it. He sighs, weary because he thought I'd be easy. But he knows me, so why would he ever think that? Right? My fake smile is sliding off of me and I don't feel the lust to put it back on.

"Sum," a woman purrs uncertainly, and I want to see this person but Seth just won't budge. I growl fiercely, like a caged tiger and push him away from me. My eyes won't focus, and it's the diaries all over again. Self protection perhaps, but this lady seems without definition, watery blurry lines that make my stomach twist, that is…until she speaks again, and I know her voice, I know her face as the lines push back into place again. _I know her._

I look back at Seth, and he is looking dreadful again, somewhere in between rage and despair. "**Don't** do this!" He threatens her, but the woman is bold, fearless while my curly boy looks on helplessly. And I am clueless until she is standing a foot from me. "Sweetie, it's been too long." Her raven eyes blink with kindness but I can't feel it, and when she has the audacity to tuck a bit of hair behind my ear all I want to do is smack her. Seth says something snide to her, almost spitting it at her, and the lady recoils a little. Perhaps he told her not to touch me anymore, and I couldn't agree more. I feel too feeble to do anything though, and lean a little into his frame. He continues undeterred, "She's my wife, and I can see this isn't helping her, so you need to leave right this minute. And don't ever think of coming to our house uninvited or I'll be sure the judge hears about it."

He isn't sparing me a look though, and I know somewhere in the rational bits of me that he wouldn't be so strong if he saw the state I was in. And as if smelling fear in the air, something feline and predatory takes over her fine features, "I'm still her mother!" Her voice roars with something akin to pride, too inexplicable to me. What's there to be proud of here? I grit my teeth against the nausea, cause I knew that…I knew, in some way. Things have a way of falling apart, one grain of information feels like an avalanche and suffocation seems inescapable. And I never knew that one person could have a dozen avalanches thunder down upon them in a lifetime, I never knew I was _that_ unlucky. I scoff, too silent to be picked up by either one of them, and I'm lying again. I did know.

It's as if time swipes past me and I am left feeling suspended when Seth moves beside me again. His hand drying my tearstained face, he's pressed me to him as his body cushions the convulsions of mine. I feel sick from the speed and slowness of the moment, and the urge to throw up all over her shiny shoes races through my fuzzy head. She's speaking but I can't hear her, I refuse to. I reject her entirely, like she did to me. I just look at Seth, into his eyes and they seem way too dark. What's wrong, I want to ask, I want to soothe but I am dizzy. I realize in an offhand manner that my pulse is breaking records, and the air won't find its way into my lungs. It's too light in my head, too airy somehow; maybe those desperate gulps of air took a wrong turn and landed there.

"What's wrong with her?" I can hear her ask him, disgust makes her scrunch up her nose and I can hear her. Doesn't she realize I can hear her? Why does it hurt me so and I want to rage at her, I want to rage so badly but nothing will come out. "Where's her nurse? God, how could you ever think you could take care of her. You can't, you never could!" And she's yelling at my boy, and I feel too dizzy to do anything about it. I see Marian brush past, I see her become bigger, fitting better into her uniform in a way as she tells everyone off for upsetting her poor crazy patient. Her eyes seem kinder to me now, maybe my gratitude is making them seem milder, but it's like they are offering some sense in their bold color…and maybe if I'm lucky it'll rub off on me. I feel like I'm gliding now, not moving really but rather being pushed away from the action. Finally I'm still, and I allow my nails to dig into the smooth fabric of the couch.

Closing my eyes, a sharp memory of the old man rattles my head. I try to soothe the savage, smooth out the jagged edges of myself. In a way it feels like being back in the Doc's office, trying not to notice things so blindly obvious even to a fool like me. I used to avoid his eyes, ignore the clicking sound of his eager pen being tapped on his oak desk. And as the sound would stifle the little space we sat in every day, I'd just close my eyes and imagine a kinder version of Van Dale. One that wouldn't push me, one that would give out kind smiles like candy and make me feel like it wasn't the end of the world if I didn't say anything at all. But even in my imagination the man was unbelievably irksome in his persistence. Even now I could hear his droning voice, telling me to remember to breathe, commanding me to open my eyes and watch the scene unfold in front of the doorway.

He told me once that people leave because they fear the idea of failure, the probability of pain. We are all like animals, sniffing the air and bolting at the first sign of trouble. I'd meekly answered that I get scared sometimes too, and he'd given me a grave look, discerning something but not allowing me the pleasure of being in on it. Maybe he could tell that _sometimes_ was a lie, that I felt lonely in this place and had no way of ending it. When I thought about it more and more, I guess the Doctor was claiming that I wasn't the only coward alive. That in fact we all were trembling masses of madness. The thought sends flares up inside me, angry bursts of light that make me react fierce to the old man's claims. We couldn't all be shattered, because how would we ever get by? Because I know men, two in fact, who redeem the lot of us, fish us out of whatever hole we try to crawl into.

Marian taps my shoulder lightly, and I think I might have fallen asleep. "Do you need to talk?" Seth walks up behind her, blinking his sad eyes at me, and my nurse gets a little fidgety. I wish I had stayed awake for the show, from the flush on her cheeks she must've given one hell of a show. Embarrassed she says, "Should I call Dr. Van Dale?" Seth shakes his head. Good, I think, but I don't know how certain I am about that sentiment really. I wait till the awkward Marian leaves the room, and turn my attention to my husband.

"Was that…" I want to ask if that was my guest, if he did that on purpose, but it doesn't make sense. I start over, not liking the accusation in that sentence. "You didn't invite her, did you?" But this one doesn't seem any better, from the look on his face anyway. I want to stop asking obvious questions, but sometimes obvious is as blurry as the rest of the shit. He hesitates too long, then gives a forceful shake of his head. His lips are pressed too tightly together, an unflattering look for such a beautiful man. I frown a little, "I read about her in my diary." Seth looks guilty, but I press on. "I don't remember when she left. Tell me." It isn't a request, but he doesn't mind my rude streak. I have every right.

"Your parents divorced when you were in middle school, I don't know exactly when. It's the Newport way to keep these things uhm… behind closed doors for as long as possible. I think you told me once that your mom had left the house a year before that. I don't know Summer, you never wanted to talk about her." I can't stop mulling over the word divorce, he said that before, _yesterday…_ I recognize the nauseous feeling that is catching me off guard now. "I can't blame you though," he smiles, confident in his caring which gives me this funny tossing feeling low down in my belly. "I think loved her a lot." I declare, as a distorted kind of slideshow of memories goes off in my brain, I think I did…I know I did. "But it was just too hard for her." My sweet curly boy looks peeved, one step removed from rolling his eyes at me. I choose to ignore it, it's an art form I possess.

"You don't like her very much, do you?" I get to up to my feet as I say this. I want to touch him, and smooth my hands along his chest, drum my fingers against it in a soft little melody. Meeting his eyes, I try to focus on how luminous they get when he concentrates them on me. It's such a light feeling, one I cling to more than I would ever like to admit to. Seth purses his lips against my forehead, barely a kiss really but it makes me calmer nonetheless.

"I don't like anyone that hurts you." I nod, what do you say to that? My heart snags right away, perhaps he wouldn't like me very much either if he knew half the things I think of doing to myself.

His long fingers rub my knotted neck, and I know I love this man. I am allowing myself to rely on him to not be like the rest of us fearful runners, the one who are too pathetic to check out the danger. "Big bad Cohen," I mumble before kissing his cheek, but he doesn't hear me.   
  
My delicate slayer of haunting parents, of grey and grizzly Doctors, of the whitest of whitecoats. _My curly haired dragonslayer with the sad eyes_, Seth whispers his adoration into my hair, and I smile up at him. His eyes look a little less tormented and I'd like to think that was my doing. I sweep my mouth over his, realizing I hadn't greeted him properly, hadn't thanked him properly for slaying for me yet again. Our eyes lock again, and this time they glow for me.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **Fox owns The O.C., I'm just sorry I'm laying the drama on so thick. :)

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry sweet reviewers, I almost suck as badly as Marissa (no offense to any fans of her, she just annoys the crap outta me) Anyway, came back from London, it was superb, but spent the last 2 weeks working off all the money I spent over there. Who in their right mind can resist shopping in London? Sorry I missed running into you Kim. Seriously, I can't even thank any of you enough for leaving such great reviews, and sticking by this story. I've just been having some moments where I had no clue where I was going with this again. I think I'm back on track again. Also, to whomever nominated me for the Citrus Awards, you rule! I've never been nominated for anything, so yeah, this is me being very happy! Read on…

**Lost In Babylon  
**

**Ch 17  
**

_I dreamed that the world was crumbling down  
__We sat on my back porch and watched it  
__I dreamed that the buildings all fell down  
__We sat on my back porch and watched it_

_In my head I heard the sound  
__Like fifteen strangers dancing  
__But oh how I want you to know me  
__Oh how I want you to know me  
__Oh how I wish I was somebody else, baby  
__Oh how I wish you could own me_

_Busted – Matchbox twenty  
_

We eat our dinner in a pleasant silence, except for the few times I snort too loudly at how cute Seth looks when he tries to steal some glances at me.

"What are you looking at punk?" I finally catch him in the act, his fork nowhere near his pretty lips. He quirks his eyebrow mockingly, and mouths "_Punk?_" at me. This sets me off, I try to stifle the laughter but it's no good and some of my water tries to make its escape through my nostrils. Not very ladylike, trust me. But it doesn't matter, since he can't seem to stop smirking at me.

"Quit it, I'm trying to eat." Seth shrugs, and goes on eating his dinner. It's my turn to stare a little, and I can see how it's such an easy act to get lost in. I love this, I can't stop myself, but being content isn't as hard as I had made it out to be. Although my pessimistic side is still covered with enough scars to prove me wrong, I can't be bothered this minute. All of that is too hazy to affect me anyway, and I won't let it be enough to tear me away from this easiness. My crumbs are starting to look less and less dismal these days, and I might end up with something worth mentioning.

_"I'm still her mother!" _

It starts to echo in my brain, sneaking up on me in that freaky feline way of that woman. The picture won't leave me either now. Her dark eyes, her pearly teeth winking back at me in the tightest smile I have ever seen. A lady fit for a frame, but never a mother. Not a mother I'd want anyway. It won't leave me for some reason. You'd think I cared about her or something_. But I don't, I don't!_ My skin feels tighter in a way, like the thought of her is slowly suffocating me, I swallow the food in my mouth to occupy my mind with something mundane. It doesn't work…

"Now who's the one staring?" I blink once…twice, and then finally smile. I guess it wasn't a good one, because he looks worried when I meet his gaze. "What's wrong?" I realize I hate that question, even coming from his perfect mouth I hate the accusation in it, the way it ends up to be such a self-fulfilling prophecy.

He's up already, on his feet, coming towards me like the good concerned husband he is. And I can't deal with it, with the endless concern. With the never-ending caring that is always expected of him. I want to swap roles, he can be the pitiable nutter for a bit and I'll be someone better. I sit back in my seat very quickly, and Seth stops in his tracks when he sees me recoil.

"Nothing." That should be enough…enough to erase the implication of fault, it really should be but that stubborn silly boy won't let things just be what they are. He takes my hands in his, and turns them so the palms are facing up. He looks at them, and so do I. I blink harder this time. It seems they are bleeding, how odd. I must have dug my fingernails into the flesh.

_I must have_, _but I thought I was feeling good._ He mutters something to me, but I can't hear him, I can't believe I made myself bleed… that I hadn't noticed. I hadn't even meant to. Seth guides me to the bathroom, seating me on the edge of the bathtub like some floppy sedated doll while I continue to stiffly ponder the fact that I didn't even do this on purpose.

"Maybe Marian was right…" Seth just puts that out there, let's it helplessly dangle in the air, and I don't know whether to respond or not. He looks up from his task of disinfecting my hands, and finishes his sentence in a low careful whisper. "I should probably call Van Dale." I want to protest but he interrupts me, "It hasn't been the easiest few days for you, I know that sweetie."

A jagged lump forms in my throat when he shoots me an understanding look. I really don't want him to understand these ugly things; fierce as he might have convinced himself he is I want him to stay beautiful and oblivious. "I think we need to at least consider consulting with someone about what happened today." I nod like the good little doll I am. Sure, whatever you say hubby, you were bound to send me away. You were bound to open your eyes one of these days.

I'm astounded that Seth can't see how bitter I am on the inside right now. But I guess I am either too cowardly or too complacent to ever turn myself inside out, and show him what's eating at me.

He seems like the naïve type though, a boy who had a neat little world before I came along with my trail of crumbs and debris. I stare at him again, harder this time, hoping to catch some of his darker moments. Maybe I'm wrong about him. Maybe he has demons too.

_We went to the hospital today, maybe I should be worried but I can't be bothered to care. I can't care about much lately. Or I'll care too much and my head will start to pound. Maybe I should be worried, I'm just not sure. It was an "informal" meeting, as Daddy kept telling the shrink. I think Daddy was trying to convince them both. She was very quiet today, at first she didn't even want to __come. I have a feeling Mom and Dad aren't telling me everything, I feel like I'm being left in the dark. The shrink asked me a lot of questions, and then all of a sudden asked them both to leave. I was afraid they'd leave me behind, I don't know why…I know it doesn't make any sense, but it could have been so easy for them. They could just drive off and leave me. I bet she has been trying to convince Daddy to do just that. Like that fairytale with the house made out of candy and the breadcrumbs scattered in the forest. I wish I'd have someone to get lost with so I wouldn't be so alone when he finally gives in to her._

Seth pats my knee, snapping me away from whatever rabbit hole I crawled in, and I focus my faraway gaze back on him again. This is a more pleasant view anyway, and I try for a smile again…I abandon it halfway through and carefully cover his hand with mine. "Tell me a story," I must be receding in age, because I feel the need to be pampered and tucked in.

"What do you want to hear?" There I go again, not being able to voice my wishes…my wants. My mouth feels dry, but before I can formulate any kind of pathetic response we are interrupted by a knock. Marian peeks in her head, and offers a timid smile, "There's a young lady here to see you," and she retreats as fast as she can. I purse my lips as I watch Seth get up from his crouching position in front of me. I don't feel like being sociable but it seems it is an inescapable fate in this little world, so after a few seconds I begrudgingly decide to follow him out anyway.

"Is everything okay? I heard about Shannon's visit…God I mean what was she thinking?"  
Seth looks annoyed and shrugs, "Who told you?" I step out to see the lanky girl looking rather amused. I'm a little surprised to see her here by herself. All that tall confidence and without that tough boy of hers, I'm sure I'm witnessing a rarity. She doesn't notice me as she breathes an exaggerated and comical sigh. "I talked to my mom, who else would know everyone's business." Seth is being rude, and grunts once. The girl seems tougher today though, and ignores him altogether. "Anyway, how is Summer?"

"She's fine." Both of them jump up a little at my intrusion, and I give them a slow indulgent nod. "Hey." I say confidently, and hold my freshly bandaged hands behind my back. I don't look at Seth because I'd like to avoid being sent off like some child for at least a few more minutes. The girl returns my greeting with a smile, and she seems a lot shakier than she was just now. Her name pops into my mind, and I'm glad for it.

"You came to see me Marissa?" I almost instantly witness the surge of confidence in her fresh face, and I admit it's a little bracing so I turn back to my husband. He's polite enough to return the grin Marissa sends him, and I want to hug him for it.

"We're gonna talk okay so…" I hope he understands from my tone that I'm fine now, but I still nod for good measure. He kisses my cheek, but I wish he'd kiss my mouth instead. "I'll go see what my brother is doing then. I know when I'm not wanted." Seth winks at us before he turns away and I feel like I can go on for now.

I grab Marissa by the hand, smoothly decide not to notice how she sort of stops to stare at my madness torn hands, and drag us to my bedroom. I feel like she could be that perfect unbiased person I've been looking for, much like her sturdy protector Ryan. Maybe she could give me those little insights that might help me out. She smiles uncertainly, and perhaps for a moment I do feel guilty for using this trusting girl. But wouldn't she want me to remember her as well, the past that I shared with her? Wouldn't she want her friend back? I swiftly condone my actions and give her a saccharine grin of my own.

"We've been friends for a long time right?" I can't believe my own brazen, but I can't think of any other angle to get started. "Since forever." Marissa sounds wistful when she agrees, and I hope I'm not missing out on anything too good. Marissa looks wretched and before I know it she puts her arm around me, whispers soft apologies while calling me 'Sum' a few times. I don't know how she knew that would feel so nice, maybe this sunny place just breeds mind readers. Or maybe they're all the only ones who really knew me. I wish I were part of that gang.

"I hate her for coming back." I repeat myself a few more times with even more conviction and find that I'm sobbing now. I guess I lost whatever hold I had on myself, and I sob a little louder at that pitiable fact. I look up at her, and her makeup is sliding down her face in sympathy. "Don't cry…" I croak softly and swipe a wrist along my cheek, but I don't mean it at all because I love that she cares. I love that I have an ally in this girl.

"Do you remember when she left?" I gaze up at her as we compose ourselves, and I watch her nod. "I remember you tried so hard not to cry. And that you kept saying you knew she must've really hated you to go through with it. But you never would tell me why, or explained any of it, Sum." Chewing on my bottom lip, I just close my eyes for a second. No images come up though, too much action has probably fried my mind cause I can't picture any of it.

"Did you like her?" Marissa looks awkward again, but perhaps it's her second nature like mine is being oblivious. "Shannon was…well I don't know…" Her face is burning up so I scramble up a laugh from some deep dark, very fake place within myself. "Never mind, it's not fair of me to ask you that." I reassure her sweetly, I always do, since sane people are so damn fragile to begin with. "I don't want to talk about her anymore." Her inability burns me, and I'm certain that our delicate alliance won't survive the night. I glance back at Marissa, her large doe-like eyes; maybe I should cut her some slack…maybe she needs this more than I do.

"One more thing though, I don't mean to lay any of this on you, but I would like to know."  
She nods, but looks frightful as well. "When did I become like this?" I didn't think it was possible but I've made the poor girl in an even more difficult position. It's hard to care though. So hard, and I don't do difficulty any longer, at least that's what I'm telling myself.

"I don't know, really Sum. God, I must sound like such a bad friend, but no one knew." "Someone had to know?!" I'm too loud, too whatever because she's clamming up and it's getting harder to ignore my throbbing hands. I soothe her once more with a coy little look, "who knew? There had to be someone right? You were my best friend right Marissa, since forever right? You should know out of all people."

Her mascara is slithering down her cheeks again, but there's no gratitude left in this non-operational mind of mine. Fuck it, there's no kindness left for people who act like they knew me, loved me once upon a time, and don't have a helping hand to extend as I'm lost in this fog.

"I didn't…I didn't." She repeats herself painfully, which makes me grind my teeth a little harder together. "The doctors thought you were just being a teenager, that's what we all thought. You were into parties, maybe a little more than the rest of us. I don't know Sum. You were being you, but your parents took you to see some doctors. I guess that was in middle school."

"Oh…" I stammer like some retard, and stare at my bandaged hands.

"They didn't know what it was, did they? They still don't…" I declare in a whisper, and I meet Marissa's gaze again. She nods. Why'd she have to do that for?

"I'm not the one you should be talking with though, I don't know what to tell you." I get this heavy feeling that this girl won't give a damn about anything that isn't about her. That she doesn't know because she didn't care enough, because she wasn't the victim…the star for once. I laugh sardonically, "Sure." My affection for her is waning, and in a way I hope she realizes it as well.

"Your mom left, you lost your dad on top of that. The only other person who knew the whole story. Of course your situation was rare, unpredictable."I wish she'd stop to speaking, I wish I could wipe this hateful smile from my lips. "And you were so good at pretending to be perfect, you fooled everyone." She gets my attention with that, and my insides flip-flop a little. "Even Cohen?" I ask without any hesitation.

"No," Marissa says too quickly, too desperately for my tastes. "I think you were as honest as you'd let yourself be with him. Remember things were messed up for you when you met Seth." For some reason I know she doesn't mean that literally, on some level I remember my cruelty to him and I squirm a little on the inside. "And when it got serious, your father made you break up with him. So when you lost your dad and you were left all by yourself." Marissa tries to pull me into some half-assed embrace, a weird ironic apology on her part for perhaps not being there either. For being lost in her own world when I was losing mine, so I wiggle out of her reach. I'm venomous and my tone is sharp. "So when did we get married?" My hands are pounding, but I'm too upset to really pay it mind.

Things feel like they're about to get ugly, and what can I say about it. No room for indignation here, I always ask for these things. Seek them out. And now I can feel her words getting under my skin, her stinging insinuations sticking out from underneath those damn hooded eyes. I avoid them again, because she frightens me with her brand of reality. I can hear the air hiss with everything that's being left unsaid all of which I don't want to believe. He didn't marry me out of pity. Poor Summer, poor me and my messed up life. My messed up head, I'd hate him if he took pity on me. I'd hate him forever. I'd hate myself even more.

"Why did he ask me? Why did he, when we were so young…right? Right!"

"You know why, he adores you Sum, he has forever. A lot of things were going on then. Your dad had just passed away and you were living in that big house by yourself. Your mother was nowhere to be found. Seth wanted to be there for you, for you to be together."

"Don't patronize me, please, treat me like you would your oldest friend." I know that's an evil thing to say, but I'm past the point of caring. I don't allow myself to even register the pained look she gives me, and merely arch my brow. Before she has a chance to speak though, the door opens and there is the honest man himself. The man has a keen sense of interruption as we both turn to look at him. He mutters something about Ryan not being there, and quickly goes silent as he watches the tense pair of us.

_Carefree daring_, my mind muses confidently and my mouth obeys like the foolish thing it is. I direct my earlier question at him, "Why did you marry me? Honestly!" I lower my voice considerably, biting my lip a little. "What did my…_mother_ have to do with any of it?"

I hardly even notice Marissa excusing herself, and nor do I think does Seth. I know I'm an ungrateful wench, he nurtures me, protects me and yet I can't see beyond this moment where he's keeping things from me again. Perhaps it's not fair that I expect so much from him, when in reality no one has helped me except for this sweet boy. But he's supposed to be the one reliable thing, and now the faiths are testing me by making me question my rock.

He sits down carefully at the spot Marissa just vacated. "I love you." Seth's voice goes hoarse, and I notice for the first time today how bloodshot his eyes are. I can't stand the sight of his fatigue.

Yet I can't say it back, the words stick to the back of my throat. I purse my lips instead, "Remember your promise…" and I know that might not be playing fair, but I don't want to be fair right now. Right this minute all that's crossing my mind is a parade of vengeful hurtful thoughts.

"I wasn't okay," I want to be laughing at my use of past tense, but it's more pitiful than funny when you stand still and think about it. "I know I was keeping a lot from you, but you had to know on some level. That I was bipolar or manic or whatever disease they are labelling me with right now. You had to know." Salt on his wounds, I know that's exactly what I'm doing but it's my only way out of this maze. In my mind I'm kissing him, apologizing for my mean spirited ways, but that's just not how things pan out. In my mind he would've married me for love, and there would be no doubt. But I also know that things aren't always trustworthy in that head of mine.

"You want me to say that I shouldn't have tried. Is that it Summer? You want me to admit I was wrong for falling in love with you?" Seth fumes, and I wish my head and heart would have a cease-fire so I could be clear about things for once. I shake my head. "I want to know you married me for me. That you loved me, and that this wasn't you just trying to save the girl you never had. That it wasn't about anyone else but us." I smooth my hair back with aching hands, and then look up at him again. "I don't want to be saved by you. There's no need for you to earn your happiness like that. You had me all along."

"Yeah," Seth nods a little as well, but he doesn't say he knows, I wish he'd say he knew that all along. I'm afraid that he doesn't believe me, and then how in hell can I believe?

"All I admit to is being stubborn enough to try and hold you for as long as I could. I hate that you are always the one who gets hurt." He's lying again, since I can feel the waves of pain coming from him I can hardly see myself as a victim that way. I want to stop this conversation, but my brain is commanding me to more stupidity. "You still haven't told me what my mom had to do with it? Why do you look so guilty?"

Seth looks away from me, and my insides tumble fiercely, as if I can smell misery in the air. "Don't be like that," I'm whispering for some reason, "Make me understand." I tightly press my lips together when his pretty eyes lock onto me, and maybe I'm lying…maybe I don't want to understand how shaky everything can get from one moment to the next.


End file.
